


West City Public Library

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: West City Public Library [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, my emotions are all over the place with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 64,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to the West City Public Library, where everyone in Technical Services is trying to kill each other, a scary looking man named after an instrument runs the children's department, and interoffice betting pools are set up over who's going to ask who out first. Throw in a martial arts instructor and his son, the daughter of a well-known pro-wrestler, an elite office assistant, and a local author with multiple personalities, and one thing is for sure: a trip to WCPL is never boring.</p>
<p>Now with its own tumblr: westcitypubliclibrary.tumblr.com Check there for extra bits, fic update news, and art!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Office Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> So on my tumblr I haven't shut up about a library!AU for Dragon Ball for a few weeks now, and I'm finally posting what I have so far. Because I am a library tech incapable of leaving my work at work. This first bit is meant to serve as an intro to the ideas present in the fic, and the whole thing will be a series of short stories.  
> Special thanks to greentrickster and spiritbathbomb on tumblr for encouraging my sinfulness.  
> (There is also going to be a tiny bit of implied Gohan/Videl in this fic but they're like 5 so there won't be much.)

"You're late, Bulma."

Bulma flicked her blue hair out of her eyes and glowered at her assistant. "Good morning to you, too, Jaco," she muttered. "My vacation? Just fine, thanks for asking. I loved spending time with my parents for the first time in months."

"You're still late."

"Have you ever tried getting Vegeta to do something he doesn't want to do while you're three months pregnant? It's about as fun as it sounds."

He sniffed derisively. "I'm sure it would be no problem for an elite like me."

"Well, you can't _get_ pregnant, so we'll never know," she shot back. She walked into her office with her head held high, Jaco trailing behind. "I swear, one of these days Vegeta's going to gripe so much I'm going to snap and get Goku to kick his ass."

Jaco shrugged. "Why wait?"

That startled a laugh out of her. "Oh my God, Jaco, you're _horrible_."

"No I'm not." He smirked. "I'm the best."

She sat behind her desk and looked at the short man in front of her. "Well, what's going on in library world today?"

He produced a notebook from somewhere in his white and purple outfit and flipped it open. "The Ox Cafe is catering that author visit next month." He flipped back a page. "The one for...Miss Launch?"

"Right, yeah, I forgot that was hers." Bulma nodded. "We've known each other forever; I'm so glad she was finally able to get that published. So Chi-Chi is definitely catering that?"

"Yes." Jaco went back to the other page. "Krillin confirmed that this morning at 8:53. Also, Raditz has filed six more complaints about Vegeta and Nappa in the last 24 hours, but that's nothing new." Bulma snorted. It really wasn't. "They all seem to be about how they pick on him by gluing his coffee mug to his desk and tying his shoes together."

"I'll talk to Vegeta," she sighed. "I swear, he's five years old. Not that the other two are any better."

"Nappa submitted a complaint as well; he claims his hair is falling out because of Vegeta and Raditz."

"Tell him to buy a toupee and shut up."

Jaco made a note. "We've received several complaints from parents of children in our after school readers program. They claim Piccolo is too loud and rude to them and their children. The kids say Piccolo is actually only loud and rude to their parents. Piccolo maintains that the parents are the problem, and continues to show favouritism to Son Gohan and Dende Kami. Program attendance is up 30% this month, though."

Bulma shook her head. "I'll talk with him."

Jaco made another note. "Yamcha and Tien are still making moony faces at each other across the library, but it doesn't look like either of them has made a move yet."

She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Jaco, I want to know about what's going on in my library _professionally_ , not about my ex's love life."

"The staff have started a running betting pool on who's asking who out first." Jaco gave her a thumbs up. "I bet five dollars on Tien."

She hesitated, then dug out her purse. "Put me down for ten bucks on Yamcha."

Jaco grinned and made a note.


	2. Reading to Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most parents read to their children. Goku isn't most parents and Gohan isn't most children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Gohan reads in this chapter is _Space Revealed_ by Alex Barnett, part of the DK Revealed series.

"Footprints still mark our adventures on the Moon,where there is no wind to disturb the lunar sand. From 1969 until 1972, the Apollo missions put 12 astronauts on the surface of the Moon to perform various experiments and learn about living in space. Apollo 17--Daddy, are you listening?"

Goku blinked a few times. He had been listening to his son reading to him, he really had, but his mind tended to wander, especially if Gohan was reading him a book of facts. He preferred stories. He grinned down at his five-year-old sheepishly. "Yes, Gohan, Daddy's listening," he said. "The moon, right? I was just thinking about when I was your age and my grandpa told me not to go out on full moons because monsters come out then."

Gohan giggled. "That's silly, Daddy! Monsters only come out on Halloween, not the full moon!"

"What about werewolves?"

"They don't count."

He said it with such conviction Goku had to laugh. "Okay then. How about you read me some more of the moon book?"

Gohan looked at his book, then back up at Goku. "Daddy, is it weird that I read so much?"

Goku frowned at him, confused. "What? No, of course not. Why?"

He squirmed and looked back at his book. "Well, Mrs. Deaning said we should be getting our parents to read to us, and I said I read to you all the time and she didn't believe me."

"Oh." Goku frowned. "But I like it when you read to me. What, don't you like reading to me?"

"Yeah!" Gohan said. "I like reading to you and Mommy. But other kids have their parents read to them, and if I'm not reading to you, you and Mommy don't really read that much..."

"Mommy's busy a lot," Goku said, "so she doesn't have time most of the time. And I'm not very good at reading. I mean, I can do it, but you're better at it than me already." He peeked down to try and look Gohan in the eyes. "Did someone at school say something again?"

Gohan sniffled. "No."

"Gohan," Goku warned. "Mommy and I have talked to you about this. If there's someone being mean--"

"Darryl Aberworthy called me names at recess," Gohan interrupted, choking on his tears. "I took a classroom book on the playground even though we're not supposed to and he saw me reading it and called me a boring goody-two-shoes bookworm and made fun of the clothes Mommy made me and when I told the teacher she wouldn't listen so I got in trouble for taking a book outside and he didn't get in trouble for saying mean things. And then Videl punched Darryl and got in trouble too." He was full on crying now, big hiccupping sobs with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

Goku pulled Gohan into his side in a comforting half-hug. "Gohan, there's nothing wrong with liking to read a lot," he said. Gohan sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. "And you love Mommy's clothes. Right?" Gohan nodded and sniffed again. "Here." He dug around in the pocket of his tracksuit and pulled out a tissue. After helping Gohan blow his nose, he gave him a kiss on the top of his head. "And if the kids at school don't know that, then that's their problem. If they want to play soccer or pretend to be superheroes and you don't, that's fine! You can sit and read if you want."

Gohan shook his head. "But Mrs. Deaning said we're not supposed to read at recess. We're supposed to 'run around and get some healthy fresh air and exercise' or something."

"Which is fine for the kids who _want_ to do that," Goku sighed. "Do you want Mommy to call the school? Because if kids are being mean to you, that's not okay."

"No!" Gohan shook his head vehemently. "Don't call! Then they'll just be more mad that my parents got them in trouble!"

Goku frowned. "Okay. But if this happens again I'm going in to talk to your teacher."

It was a familiar exchange--it happened every time Gohan came home crying, or told Goku about something mean someone (usually Darryl Aberworthy) had said. And Goku wasn't sure what to do about it. He talked to Chi-Chi about it, about maybe taking Gohan out of school, but she'd been absolutely adamant that he 'get his education,' which he didn't totally understand. He'd been homeschooled and she only had her high school diploma, and they'd done alright, hadn't they? But it was important to Chi-Chi that Gohan go to school, and Gohan did seem to like school a lot, except for Darryl Aberworthy. So Goku was stuck, not knowing how to make his son happy without making him miserable first.

"Okay." Gohan wasn't okay with it, Goku knew, and he wouldn't let Chi-Chi call the school unless something drastic happened. Goku wracked his brain for something he could say or do to help, coming up short yet again.

"How about you read me some more about the moon?" he asked instead. "That was really interesting! And if you're going to be an astronaut when you grow up, you need to know this stuff!"

Gohan grinned up at him, eyes still red and puffy from crying. "Yeah! And then maybe after that, I can read you 'I Want My Hat Back' again?"

"Sounds good, Gohan." He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders as the boy snuggled into his side, opening his book again. It wasn't a perfect solution--it wasn't even a _good_ solution--but it was the best Goku could do for now.

"Apollo 17 carried the last of the astronauts..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyone who knows me in real life or follows me on tumblr knows that I am a school librarian. Part of that (at one school, anyway) is doing yard duty for 20 minutes at lunch.  
> Apparently one of the recess rules is kids aren't to be taking books or toys (i.e. action figures, Pokemon cards) out to the yard, not because the staff are afraid the kids will lose/wreck them...but because recess is supposed to be a time to "get fresh air and exercise."  
> RULES LIKE THAT ARE WHY I HATED RECESS BY THE END OF ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. "Here have this free time to do what you want but if you're not spending it doing what I think you should be doing you'll get in trouble." Shut the fuck up.  
> I'm not bitter what why would you think that


	3. Boredom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lapis no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAPIS YES

Lapis was bored.

Generally speaking, when Lapis got bored, shenanigans started to ensue. Sometimes that meant throwing eraser bits at his sister from across the office until she threatened to murder him with his phone. Sometimes it meant seeing how many ways he could get past the web filters (then fixing the holes in the firewall that allowed him to do that). Occasionally, it meant making prank calls to the bald dwarf upstairs, but he'd gotten in actual, serious trouble for that the last time he did it and wasn't eager to lose his job, so that was out. Once, he'd gone and stacked books in the middle of the floor like in Ghostbusters just to see the reactions of his coworkers, but he'd gotten chewed out for that one, too. Everyone in the library hated fun.

If something interesting didn't happen in the next five to ten minutes, though, he was going to go to the second floor and start switching magazines around.

Eight minutes later, he was halfway through sorting his pens by height and colour and mourning his lost dreams of being a park ranger when the phone rang. Lapis eagerly snatched it out of the cradle, ignoring Lazuli's eye rolling from the other side of their tiny office. "IT Department, Lapis speaking," he said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

"Oh. Lapis. Hi." Oh good, it was the dwarf from Reader's Advisory. Lapis hadn't even checked the caller ID in his excitement for something to do. "Uh, I guess I hit the wrong extension; I meant to dial 18, not 17--"

"Krillin, _Krillin_ , don't worry about it." He pretended not to notice his sister perk up slightly when she realized who was on the other end of the line. "I can _totally_ fix any problems you have just as well as Lazuli, and frankly I'm hurt you'd think otherwise."

He heard Krillin sigh distantly, like he was holding the phone away from himself so he didn't sigh directly into the mouthpiece. Well, the man had tact, at least. "Alright, so the trouble is--"

"Did you try turning it off and turning it back on again?" Lapis interrupted.

"I haven't even told you what the problem is yet!"

"Doesn't matter. The first thing any IT guy--" Lazuli coughed conspicuously. "--Or girl," he amended, "or anything else, is going to tell you is to turn it off and turn it back on again. If they're worth their paycheck, that is."

"Look, my mouse isn't working, okay? And yes, I tried changing the battery."

"Hm." Lapis tapped his chin with a pen, then absently sorted it into the lineup on his desk. "Did you--"

"Yes I turned my computer off and then on again. And it's plugged in."

"I see." Lapis leaned back in his chair. "Well, the only conclusion I can come to is that your computer is haunted."

There was a pause. Then Krillin hung up on him.

Lapis snorted and hung up his phone. "Rude."

"Gosh, I can't imagine why he'd hang up on you or anything," Lazuli retorted as she reached for her ringing phone. "IT Department, Lazuli speaking."

"Hi, Krillin," Lapis called.

Lazuli ignored him and actually focused on the task at hand. Bitch. Some days it was hard to believe they were related. Lapis went back to his pens. He did his best to tune out his sister's side of the conversation, but it was easier said than done.

"So you already tried turning the computer off and on again. And the mouse?"

"Okay, try it now."

"That should do you. Was there anything else?"

There was a long pause, and for a moment Lapis thought she'd hung up. Then she said "Are you asking me out?"

Lapis couldn't help it. He burst into laughter. "Oh my God, is he actually doing it?" he asked.

Lazuli shot him an icy death glare and returned to her conversation. "Ignore him."

"No, don't ignore me, I'm hilarious."

"Seriously, you can ignore Lapis. I do all the time."

Lapis scooted his chair across the office and leaned over the back of it. "Krillin if you break my sister's heart she'll kill you and I'll help."

"Krillin, I'm going to just come up to the Reader's Advisory desk," Lazuli said, then she hung up. Lapis grinned at her. "I fucking hate you."

He put a hand over his heart. "Language! You wound me, madame!"

She shoved him away and he went spinning back towards his desk. "Go sort your highlighters or whatever you're doing over there. I have a date."

Lapis propped his chin on his hand and watched her brush imaginary dirt off her outfit. "So are you actually going to take him up on this date thing?" he asked. She glared at him and he held up his hands defensively. "A serious, legitimate question for once. I mean, _I_ don't see why you'd go for a guy like him--he's short, bald, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't actually have a nose. Plus I'm pretty sure he's a monk."

"Ex-monk. He told me once."

"Ex-monk then, whatever. He's also a huge dweeb. He's the kind of guy you would've stuffed in a locker a few years ago. So are you actually going to go out with him? I mean, he's had a huge obvious crush on you since we got hired."

Lazuli shrugged and tucked her chair in. "Why not? He's sweet, he obviously likes me a lot, and...I don't know, he's kind of cute." Lapis wrinkled his nose. "Fuck you."

"No, no, that's _Krillin's_ job." Lazuli responded by slamming the office door on the way out.

He propped his chin on his hand again and absently tapped a pen against his desk. He could just picture the encounter now--she'd show up at Reader's Advisory, where he'd been panicking in the back room since the call had ended. She'd flaunt her charms, he'd get flustered, she'd probably give him a kiss on the cheek (why did she always do that?), they'd make plans, and Lapis wouldn't hear about anything else from her (or him, for that matter) for _months_. Great.

Actually, speaking of which, he had some business to attend to. Lapis picked up the phone again and dialled extension 16 on the internal line. When the usual monotone "Hello." sounded, he grinned. "Hey, big guy," he said. "You owe me ten bucks."


	4. A Judge of Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Piccolo have history. It's in Piccolo's best interests that no one ever finds out about it.  
> Especially Gohan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.K.A. "This Part Establishes Things So That Later Installments Make Sense"

"So you _are_ working here now."

Every muscle in Piccolo's body stiffened. His fists clenched, his jaw tightened. His shoulders hitched up around his ears. He had to force himself to breathe properly. He knew that voice.

Slowly, Piccolo turned around, and sure enough, there was Son Fucking Goku, standing there with his hands in the pockets of that ridiculous orange uniform. He looked like the most casual man in the world. His face was passive, almost relaxed. He looked Piccolo directly in the eyes, almost daring him to challenge him here, in public, in the place Piccolo worked.

Instead, Piccolo forced his shoulders to relax and nodded. "Going on three years now."

Goku nodded slowly, thoughtfully, still studying Piccolo's face. "When Gohan came home from the After-School Readers program talking about 'Mr. Piccolo,' I wondered." He glanced around the children's department. "Never took you for the library type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Piccolo shot back, regretting the words instantly because _God_ he sounded like a bitter ex.

"I could say the same."

Piccolo's temper flared. "I've been working towards this for longer than Gohan's been alive." Who the hell did Son Goku think he was? Coming into Piccolo's workplace to--what? Confront him? Threaten him? Tell him to stay away from his son? He hadn't done any of that yet, but the night was still young. Why the hell was Goku even here in the first place?

Fuming, Piccolo took a step forward. "Well, _some_ of us have work to do," he said, making to push past Goku. This was ridiculous and a waste of his time and was just going to get him in a bad mood and raise his blood pressure.

He froze when Goku grabbed his arm. "We should talk."

"No thanks."

"No, really." Goku had his serious face on, the one he usually saved for fights. "It'll take two minutes."

Piccolo hesitated. If he got into a big blowup with a patron, usually Bulma would take her staff's side. But if the patron was one of Bulma's best friends, like Goku was, she'd definitely take Goku's side. It wasn't worth the headache. "Two minutes," he agreed. "That's it."

Goku grinned. "Great!" He took his hand off Piccolo's arm and put it back in his pocket. Piccolo resisted the urge to cringe away from him. _God_ he hated this man. "So here's the thing," Goku said. "I don't think you're really that bad a guy."

Piccolo barked out a laugh. "Sure."

"Seriously!" Goku held up his hands in what was probably supposed to be a gesture of sincerity, but just looked silly. "You tried, and you sure gave me a beating, but you're not your dad and you never will be. And at this point I don't think you ever wanted to be."

Everything tensed again. "Don't you _dare_ bring him into this."

"You started it by trying to follow his footsteps instead of doing your own thing. Which you're doing now instead." Goku rocked back on his heels. "Thanks for not trying to kill anyone recently, by the way."

Piccolo couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he glowered at Goku instead.

"Anyway. Your dad killed a lot of people and then I got him arrested and killed for it, and you hate me and tried to kill me for that. I get it. But I don't think you're too bad. You're working here, right? Bulma wouldn't hire you if you were a bad person."

"Bulma's not a great judge of character," Piccolo interrupted. "Have you met the man she chose to marry?"

Goku laughed. How the hell was he so carefree and casual about this? "Aw, Vegeta's not so bad either."

Honestly, Piccolo wasn't sure if Goku was a terrible judge of character or if he actually believed in everyone he met that much.

"You're a decent person, deep down. And Gohan _adores_ you. When he comes home from here you're all he talks about. He used to want to be an astronaut and all he talked about was space. Now he wants to be a librarian like Mr. Piccolo. But also in space." Piccolo's face softened just a bit. "So I'm not going to say 'stay away from my son' like Chi-Chi wanted me to." Piccolo's expression hardened again. "I think it'd make Gohan sad, and the kid needs all the happiness he can get right now." Goku got a distant look on his face, and for the first time Piccolo saw him as a worried father, someone who cared about his son above all else, and the "fuck off" he'd been about to say died in his throat. This was such an alien experience for him. He already didn't do positive emotions well, and seeing cheerful, optimistic Goku genuinely worried and sad was just bizarre. Goku shook it off and turned back to Piccolo, his smile back in its usual place. "But I think we shouldn't tell Gohan about our...'history' until he's older. Agreed?"

He hated to admit it, but Goku had the right idea. The less Gohan knew about his past, particularly the Goku-related parts of his past, the better. "Agreed," he said. He checked his watch. "Your two minutes are up. I have work to do." He pushed past Goku again and this time Goku didn't try to stop him. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching Piccolo walk away.

He hadn't detected any hint of a threat from their conversation, and Goku wasn't the type to make threats anyway. But it still set him on edge to see him, let alone talk with him. Technically, Piccolo didn't have any sort of criminal record--Goku hadn't reported his attack to the police--but they both knew if Goku ever decided to come forward about Piccolo's attempt on his life, it would be catastrophic. Piccolo couldn't afford to lose his job, or go to jail, and he definitely didn't want to end up with the death penalty like Piccolo Sr. had.

And he certainly didn't want to lose Gohan, one of the only bright spots in his life. A kid who gave Piccolo his due respect not because of his scary face or his father's reputation or even just because Piccolo was an adult and Gohan was a kid. But because he actually, genuinely _liked_ Piccolo for some reason.

The whole encounter had just left him with a confusing, nausea-causing ball of stress and worry settled in his stomach. He sat heavily in his chair behind the Children and Youth Services desk and glared daggers at Goku as he walked by. To his credit, he didn't even look at Piccolo and walked on. The Goku he'd met years ago would've assumed he wanted a fight and challenged him on the spot, regardless of location or context. Goku had changed a lot, just as Piccolo had. Given time and forced proximity, there was a chance they could become more civil with each other.

Right now, though, Piccolo wasn't interested.

Another pair of eyes watched Goku on his way out of the library. The young woman who worked at the desk with Piccolo stared after the man her supervisor had just had a terse conversation with without blowing up outright. She looked at Piccolo. "Who was that, boss? Your ex?"

He turned his fierce glare on her instead. "Get back to work, Mai." She squeaked, apologized eight times, and disappeared into the back room.


	5. Worst Patron of the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krillin, Yamcha, and Tien would love their jobs so much more if it weren't for the people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied homophobic slurs.

Krillin leaned forward, elbows on the staff room table. "Okay, stop me if you've heard this one."

Yamcha folded his arms. Tien glanced over from where he was pouring two mugs of coffee.

Krillin propped his hands on his hips and gave the other two men a glare. "'Well, I don't know _why_ you can't find the _exact_ book I'm looking for,'" he said in a gruff voice. "'I _told_ you what the cover looked like!'"

Tien snorted derisively and Yamcha laughed aloud. "Wow. And that's all he told you about it?"

"No title, no author, not even a description of the plot. Just that it was a hardcover with a man and a dog and a sunset on it."

"Just...wow," Yamcha said. "Oh, oh, here's one." He tossed his head, flipping his hair haughtily. "'Yes, I'm looking for books on a very specific and obscure subject. What do you mean you only have one book about it this is UNACCEPTABLE!'"

Tien winced. "Oh, God, that was at you? I heard that screech all the way from the first floor."

"I think she wanted stuff about a mushroom that grows once every ten years in a particular part of a particular forest in the heart of Mordor or something. Because, you know, we have _tons_ of books about that."

"'I want to speak to your supervisor' is always a classic," Krillin added. "I've had that four times today. It's so much fun going to get Bulma and having her explain that _I'm_ the supervisor."

"Ugh, that's the best." Yamcha nodded. "You just feel so powerful going 'I _am_ the supervisor.'"

"Cower before me, mortals," Krillin boomed, "for I am the all-powerful Reader's Advisory Supervisor!"

"Speaking of Reader's Advisory," Tien chimed in, stirring sugar into one of his coffee mugs, "I have at least five patrons a day who come to circulation and ask me to do your job for you." He raised his voice an octave. "'I don't _want_ to go to the Reader's Advisory desk. I'm at _this_ desk _now_. Do your job!' Never mind that she's asking me to do _someone else's_ job."

The other men laughed. "Alright, I've been saving this one," Yamcha said. "So this old guy comes up to the desk asking for stuff on like World War II or some other old man thing, right?" Krillin eyed him nervously. This sort of story went one of two ways: hilarious or horrible. "And apparently I'm taking too long looking stuff up or something because he gets all huffy."

"Oh no," Krillin groaned.

"Yeah, he goes 'when _I_ was your age, young man' and I'm like oh God I'm not getting paid enough for this." Krillin and Tien nodded sympathetically--"I'm not getting paid enough for this" was practically the staff mantra. "So it's 'when _I_ was your age, young man, we _respected_ one another.' Because apparently I was disrespectful by waiting for the computer to load."

"Let me guess," Krillin piped up. Tien shook his head from by the coffeemaker. "This was right before he said something horribly disrespectful?"

"Oh, it gets better. Then he starts in on my hair." He flipped some stray hair over his shoulder. Yamcha had been growing it out again--every so often he'd chop it all off, but most of the staff knew he preferred it long. "He's like, 'and we didn't wear our hair like _women_! Men wore their hair like _men_ , not hippie fa--'"

"Please tell me he didn't." Tien looked horrified.

"He did. Every homophobic slur in the book. I left Pilaf in charge and got Bulma to ban him from the library for the next year." Yamcha sighed. "So that was my morning, sitting in Bulma's office shaking because some asshole decided I'm a horrible person because I have long hair. And because I'm gay. Which, incidentally, I'm not. I'm bi. But anyway."

Krillin held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "You win. I didn't get any slurs thrown at me today; you win. Are you okay?"

Yamcha waved his concern off. "I'm fine now. Like I said, this morning I was a total wash so Pilaf was in charge. And you know how much I hate leaving Pilaf in charge."

"About your _hair_ , though." Tien shook his head. "You have such nice hair; I can't believe someone would be a dick like that to you."

Yamcha blinked a few times, then blushed. "Uh, thanks. That's...that's nice of you to say."

Tien, face red, picked up the two coffee mugs. "I, uh, I've gotta go give Chiaotzu his coffee." He disappeared out the staff room door, awkwardness trailing in his wake.

Krillin glanced at the clock on the microwave and stood up. "I need to get back to work, too. Hey, what's our tally, again?"

"Huh?" Yamcha was still staring after Tien, a rather dopey look on his face.

"The tally? For the 'worst patron today' contest?" Krillin sighed. "Never mind. See you later." He picked up his own coffee and paused on his way out the door. "Oh, by the way, Yamcha?" When Yamcha blinked at him, he smirked. "Just ask Tien out, already. This whole 'kinda flirting and staring at each other dopily' thing is starting to get old."

Yamcha's blush was back in full force and he leapt to his feet. "I'm not--! We're not--! YOU DON'T GET TO TALK AFTER HOW LONG IT TOOK YOU TO ASK LAZULI OUT!" he bellowed.

Krillin shrugged. "Yeah," he conceded, "but at least I _did_." And with a shit-eating grin, he was gone.


	6. A Human Resources Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piccolo can only be expected to put up with so much. Unfortunately, Bulma has a few things to say about his interactions with patrons, and so does the new guy in HR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring an asshole in a camo suit jacket and the return of Jaco and Mai.

Piccolo forced his shoulders to relax, counted to ten, and replied "No, you didn't."

The woman on the other side of the desk slammed her hand on it and Piccolo's shoulders were up around his ears again. "Yes, I did! Joseph Belton. Look it up again!"

"Ma'am, there's no Joseph Belton on the list for today's Toddler Time."

"But he was on the list last week!"

"Is it possible you're thinking of a different program? Or library?" He was probably going to get in trouble for sassing a patron, but this harpy had been screeching at him for ten minutes and he had a room full of crying toddlers and cranky parents that he was five minutes behind in dealing with. Whatever punishment Bulma dished out for being 'rude,' it was worth it.

"No! It was Toddler Time on Wednesdays!"

A sudden realization came over Piccolo and he resisted a strong urge to slam his head into his desk. "Today is Tuesday."

She blinked. "Oh."

"Your son is on the list for tomorrow," he confirmed, checking the computer. Crisis averted. Mostly. "So you can come to--"

"Can't you just put us in _today's_ program?" the woman interrupted. "We're here _now_ anyway."

Piccolo fixed her with the deadest stare he could manage. "No." He started to leave. "Excuse--"

"Listen, you green behind the ears two-bit librarian," she snapped, and Piccolo breezed by her, taking deep, slow breaths to try and stay calm. Punching patrons was frowned upon. "I have been coming to this library for years and I've never had this kind of treatment!" She was shouting now. Patrons were starting to stare as she trailed after him through the library and Chiaotzu was looking over from the Circulation desk. "You've been rude to me and my son, and refused to help me, and clearly you don't know what you're talking about!" Her son--Joseph?--started wailing. "And look, now my son is crying and it's your fault! I want to speak to your supervisor!" She knelt down and made a big show of fussing over him.

Piccolo glanced down at them, and against his better judgement he stopped and turned back to them. "It's astonishing," he said, "exactly how many ways you found to be _wrong_ just now." He really should be getting to the program room, but this sort of opportunity didn't come every day and he wasn't being paid enough for this.

She got all puffed up again and he talked right over her. "First of all, the phrase is either 'green horn' or 'wet behind the ears,' not 'green behind the ears.' Secondly," he continued, still talking over her, "I've been working here for longer than your son has been alive and I never saw either of you before today. And trust me, I remember every child who comes for Toddler Time." Toddlers tended to leave a lasting impression. As far as Piccolo was concerned, children were downright awful until they hit about age five, when they started being tolerable. How the fuck did he even get this job. "Thirdly, I've done nothing but try to help you since you got here and started throwing a tantrum that even the thirty toddlers I'm about to corral would be proud of, but apparently you're too important to listen to anything you don't want to hear. Also, I went to university for five years to get the degree that got me this job. I know what I'm talking about."

She was gaping at him like a stunned goldfish. Anything Bulma threw at him as punishment after this would be so worth it, even more sensitivity training. "And finally, most damningly, your son is crying because you're yelling. You can't come to Toddler Time today. I'm not sure I want you at Toddler Time tomorrow. And frankly I'm not sure which one of you is the toddler in this situation." Oh, that was good, he was on top of things today. Deciding to end on a high note, Piccolo turned on his heel and strode off into the program room.

Today, he decided even as thirty annoyed parents and their screaming two year olds descended on him, was going to be a good day.

~~~

A few hours later, Piccolo was systematically cutting pictures of ducks out of a ten year old issue of National Geographic when an "ahem" caught his attention. "Hello, Jaco," he said, not looking up. He had about six more ducks to finish cutting out before he sent them to Raditz for laminating. Raditz hated laminating small bits of paper, so Piccolo always made sure to send him lots. "I suppose Bulma wants to see me."

"She does, yes." Jaco's voice was clipped and precise, as usual. "Also, I would advise against doing anything to further annoy or otherwise bother her, because she is already _very_ angry with you. And pregnant. And has been dealing with angry parents all morning."

"So have I," Piccolo pointed out, still not looking up from his work. "It's almost literally my _job_ to deal with angry parents."

"Nevertheless, it's not _her_ job. So she's not happy with you. I would suggest going to her office posthaste."

"Worth it," Piccolo sighed, putting his work aside and standing up. "Mai, I'll be right back. Don't worry about the ducks; I'll deal with them when I get back."

She glanced up at him. "If you're going to Bulma's office, won't it take a while?"

He shrugged. "I figure if she wants to see me about this morning, she's either going to fire me, which she can't because I'm too good at my job, cut my pay, which she can't because union shit, or send me for sensitivity training again. Either way, I'll be back shortly."

Jaco huffed. "Well, _I'm_ going for my coffee break. I'm not going anywhere near that office until you two are done in there." And he was gone.

Piccolo took the long way to Bulma's office, taking the stairs three flights as the healthy option and meandering past the Information Services desk. Yamcha shook his head at him from behind it. "You are in so much shit," he said.

"Probably." Piccolo wasn't worried. Sensitivity training wasn't so bad--about an hour with Agnes from HR, the sweetest woman in the world. She could never bring herself to fail anyone. Then Piccolo was back to work, and trying to be better at customer service for about a week, before someone inevitably said something even stupider than what had set him off the first time and he was back to square one.

It really was a good thing he was so good at his job.

When he stepped into Bulma's office, he was prepared for shouting and berating and probably at least a few insults. He got none of those. Instead, Bulma stayed seated and _smiled_ up at Piccolo, rubbing her just-visible baby bump. "Oh, hey Piccolo," she said sweetly. "Have a seat." She was eerily serene.

Piccolo had been raised by a crime boss, nearly died once, and had survived five years of university hell. And yet this oddly calm Bulma was the scariest thing he had ever seen.

He sat.

"I'm just waiting for a few more people and we can get started," Bulma said. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

Before Piccolo had a chance to ask who else they were waiting for or what was starting, the door opened and the entire Technical Services department forced their way through, arguing and snapping at each other as usual. Nappa, the tallest, was struggling to keep Vegeta and Raditz from strangling each other. Lapis from IT strolled in behind them and took a seat next to Piccolo without a word, eyes glued to the trio, one side of his mouth tipped up in a grin. He looked like he was watching a particularly entertaining movie.

"Alright, ENOUGH!"

Piccolo winced and clapped his hands over his sensitive ears. God but that woman had powerful lungs. The three lunkheads from Tech Serv stopped fighting and sat down where Bulma pointed, Nappa purposefully depositing himself between the other two. Bulma smiled sweetly at them again, and Piccolo felt his stomach twist. Something was about to go very, very wrong.

"Well, all of you should know why you're here," Bulma started.

"When does Agnes show up?" Lapis asked. Piccolo sighed internally. So they were there for sensitivity training. Good. He could handle that. It didn't explain why Bulma was being so weird, though.

"Oh, Agnes isn't coming today."

Piccolo froze. "Why not?" he asked.

Bulma sighed. "She broke her hip, poor thing. She'll be away for the foreseeable future. In the meantime, though," she said, standing up, "I've got someone here to replace her." She turned to the door that led from her office to Agnes's. "HEY, DICKBAG, GET IN HERE."

Five pairs of eyes stared at the door apprehensively as it opened and a man stepped through. He was tall and kind of beefy, and was that a camo suit jacket? And he actually responded to "hey dickbag?" Who the hell was this guy?

"Guys, this is Mr. Cell." Bulma looked very proud of herself. "He's filling in for Agnes. You'll all be taking sensitivity training with him this afternoon." Piccolo wasn't sure what to make of Cell. He was kind of imposing-looking, but mostly due to his height, and Piccolo was sure he was still taller than him. Lapis, however, looked like he was about to either run away or self-combust, and the three stooges just looked unimpressed.

Then Cell started talking.

Piccolo had never heard a person who sounded more like a stereotypical serial killer in his life, and his father actually was a serial killer. He was smarmy and borderline asshole, just enough that Bulma wouldn't yell at him for it. And his laugh after he told them he hoped they'd all "have a pleasant time" was _terrifying_.

And the five of them had to spend their afternoon with him.

~~~

Mai was cutting ducks out of National Geographic with slightly less care than Piccolo had taken when he got back to the desk. She looked up when he approached. "Oh! Boss! Sorry, I know you said you'd deal with this when you got back, but you were taking a while, and Raditz gets cranky if the laminating stuff isn't ready by five, so..."

"I'm taking my break," Piccolo interrupted. He disappeared into the back room.

"But you just...got...okay then." Mai started to return to her work when the Tech Serv guys walked by. "Oh, Raditz, we've got some laminating for you; it'll be ready--" They all ignored her and trudged back towards their office.

"What's up with them?"

Mai looked over to see Pilaf from Info Serv leaning on the desk. "No idea," she said. "They weren't even bickering like usual." She handed him a stack of papers. "This is what you're looking for, right?"

"Thanks, Mai." And Pilaf disappeared again.

She slowly stood up and peered into the back room. Piccolo was sitting at the desk, head on his arms, staring at the far wall. He looked tired, almost drained. "Boss?" she asked. Piccolo shifted so he was looking up at her, not even offering so much as a grunt of acknowledgement. "Is everything okay?" She kept her voice quiet, peeking at him from around the doorframe. "You seem kind of out of it."

He slowly lifted a hand and waved it casually. "I'm fine, or I will be. There's a new guy at HR, Cell something-or-other; I didn't care enough to find out. He's...intense. Kind of draining to be around."

Mai frowned. "I heard that Agnes was off. Do you know how long she's gone for?"

"No idea. Hope she's back soon, though. Do me a favour, Mai, and avoid Cell. He's kind of...bizarre." He shifted so he was facing away from her again. "I'm taking a power nap. Wake me in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir." Mai went back to her seat and pulled out her Nat Geo. It was going to be a very long shift.


	7. Mr. Piccolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan has some questions about his dad and Mr. Piccolo. Piccolo has answers, but refuses to give them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Gohan reads in this chapter is _A Look at Jupiter_ by Suzanne Slade.

"Mr. Piccolo, my mommy said that you and Daddy fought a long time ago."

Piccolo flinched. He stopped sorting the new picture books and looked down at Gohan. He had dragged one of the beanbag chairs out of the children's programming room and had it propped against the Children and Youth Services desk. There were only three children Piccolo let get away with that. A stack of children's astronomy books sat next to Gohan on the floor. He was looking up at Piccolo, a book about Jupiter still open in his lap, a neutral look on his face as though he'd just made a perfectly normal statement.

Piccolo turned his chair to better look at the boy. "Your mother told you that?"

"Uh-huh. She said I shouldn't talk to you all the time when I come to the library, and when I asked why not that's what she said." He was very matter-of-fact for a five year old, and while Piccolo usually appreciated honesty over beating around the bush, this was one situation he would have preferred less directness.

He folded his arms. "She didn't elaborate?"

Gohan shook his head. "Nope." He raised his voice an octave in a god-awful impression of Chi-Chi. "'I'll tell you when you're older, Gohan.' That's what she said when I asked." He frowned, and Piccolo almost laughed, because Gohan hadn't quite grown out of the stage where frowning still looked a lot like pouting. He would have laughed, but this topic had him too on edge. "I asked Daddy and he said the same thing," Gohan continued. "He said I should listen to Mommy and not spend so much time at your desk, but no one will tell my how come."

Piccolo dug his fingernails into his arms so hard he was almost surprised he didn't draw blood. He had an idea of what was coming next.

Sure enough, Gohan looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "Will _you_ tell me, Mr. Piccolo?"

He clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to shout the boy down. What was he supposed to say? That Goku used to fight "bad people" for a living? That Piccolo's father had killed hundreds of people before Gohan's father put a stop to him? That because of Goku, Piccolo's father got the death penalty? That he'd tried to kill Goku in revenge--and nearly succeeded? That the only reason he was spared the same fate as his father was Goku's mercy and Piccolo's sheer dumb luck? That sometimes when he saw Goku bringing his son to the library, even all these years later, his blood still boiled and he wanted to slash the throat of the man who killed his father?

That as far as he was concerned, Gohan was the only good thing that had ever come of Goku's existence?

"If your parents don't want to tell you, I'm not going to, either" was what he eventually said instead. He turned back to his picture books. "They know what's best for you." It set his teeth on edge to say it, but hopefully it would get him out of talking about it.

No such luck. "Aw, c'mon Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan pulled himself up and leaned his arms and chin on the desk. "I'm a big boy, I can handle it!"

Piccolo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're five."

"Yeah! I go to school! I'm a big kid, not a baby."

He turned to face Gohan again. "You really want to know why we fought?"

Gohan nodded solemnly.

Piccolo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. Maybe he could get away with a lie of omission to make the kid shut up about it. "Fine. If you absolutely _must_ know, we fought a long time ago, before you were born." He bit the inside of his lip as Gohan looked at him expectantly. "We...wanted to find out who was a better fighter." Technically, it was true. He'd called Goku out to a fight instead of killing him in his sleep because he'd thought he could take him down easily. The fact that Goku had taken Piccolo Sr. down in a fistfight had also been a factor, and he felt it was perfect to exact his bloody revenge by being better at something Goku prided himself at being so good at. It was a perfect plan as he'd seen it, except that he wasn't quite as ready for the fight as he'd thought and had nearly gotten both of them killed. Goku had never reported him to the police, and he'd basically gotten away scot-free, finished school, gotten a job. He kept one eye over his shoulder the whole time, just in case Goku changed his mind. And while Piccolo could respect Goku as a person and as a fighter, he would always see him as the man who killed his father, and Goku would probably always see him as the son of a murderer.

Well, fine. Piccolo could handle that. He didn't give a flying fuck what Goku thought of him.

Gohan, on the other hand...he cared a little too much about how Gohan thought of him.

Gohan looked like he was waiting for more, but that was all Piccolo was interested in--or comfortable with--sharing. "That's it?" he asked when Piccolo turned back to his work again.

"Yes," he said tersely. He grabbed a book with shaking hands and gripped it tightly to try and calm himself down--thinking too much about Goku was bad for his nerves and his blood pressure.

"Huh." When Piccolo glanced down at Gohan, he looked thoughtful. "I guess that makes sense."

A little of the tension drained out of Piccolo's shoulders and his hands slowly stopped shaking. Gohan was too smart for his own good sometimes--he wasn't sure he'd buy that that was the whole story. But he was also just as naive as his father about some things, apparently, which was good for Piccolo.

"I mean, I figured it had to be something like that," Gohan continued. He beamed up at Piccolo. "My daddy only fights bad people, and you're a really good person, Mr. Piccolo!"

Gohan's trusting words were like a punch to the gut. No, Piccolo actually had the experience to compare it to--this was worse. He clenched his jaw again and looked away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Gohan's smiling, naive, innocent face.

"Read your damn books, kid," he growled, slamming the book he was holding down on a pile and not particularly caring which one.

"Okay!" Gohan chirped, completely missing the mood that had suddenly come over his "favourite librarian" (as he was so fond of telling people, _why_ was Piccolo so damn proud of that fact). He turned around and flopped back into his beanbag chair. "And when I'm done these, you'll help me find new ones, right?"

Piccolo drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly to calm himself. He managed to shoot Gohan a small smile. "Sure, kid." He was sure Gohan knew it was strained, but he didn't say anything about it.

He just smiled up at Piccolo again and cracked open _A Look at Jupiter_. "Thanks, Mr. Piccolo!" he said.

Piccolo took another slow, deep breath and picked up the book he'd just put down on the wrong pile. He knew that one day Gohan would find out exactly what kind of person Mr. Piccolo was, and what he'd done, and when that day came he hoped Gohan would understand. Or, if not understand, at least not completely reject Piccolo outright for it. He supposed he wouldn't really blame Gohan if he did. But if Piccolo had been particularly religious (he got enough of that from his uncle thanks), he would've prayed to whatever deity that would listen that everything would turn out alright.

Because if Gohan was the only good thing to come of Goku's existence, he was also the only good thing that had happened to Piccolo in his entire life.


	8. Author Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for an author visit to the library, and it's someone Bulma knows well. Unfortunately, she has a bit of a quirk that can result in violent tendencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned recently how much I love L(a)unch because it's a lot.

Bulma flung her arms around the woman's shoulders. "It's so great to see you!" she cried. "It's been too long!"

The other woman laughed and hugged Bulma back. "It really has! Gosh, how long has it been? Two years?"

"Closer to three, I think," Bulma said, releasing her and stepping back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, busy. You know how it is." She sighed. "Mostly running myself ragged trying to get this book published. Thanks again for hosting this signing, by the way."

Bulma waved a hand dismissively. "Launch, you're one of my oldest friends, even if we hardly see each other. Of course I want to support your book." She glanced around her office, but it didn't appear as though any Nosy Parkers were listening in. "How goes the personality changes?"

Launch shrugged. "Still a work in progress. Writing _Good Cop, Bad Cop_ has been really good for me, actually. It's been helpful to get my experiences down on paper and talk about them candidly. In fact--" She cut herself off as her nose started to twitch. Bulma rushed behind her desk to put some distance between them as her friend sneezed. Launch's entire demeanor changed: her once-impeccable posture drooped slightly, her smile became lopsided and took on a meaner edge, and instead of giggling demurely she laughed boisterously and maliciously. "Things're great! I'm not wanted for any crimes right now, but hey, the day's still young!" Even her vernacular and accent had changed.

Edging out from behind her desk, Bulma cautiously approached the woman she had dubbed "Blonde Launch" all those years ago. "Hi, Blondie," she said cautiously. "You, uh, you're looking well."

Launch slugged Bulma in the shoulder. "Ya don't look so bad yourself, sugar. So when's this thing start? I got places to be, y'know."

"There's still about an hour until it starts," Bulma said, trying to get Launch to stay in business mode. Blonde Launch, so nicknamed because Launch had had blonde hair when Bulma first met her other half, was easily distracted. "How about we head down to the meeting room and make sure everything's set up?" Maybe she could get some pepper and get the easier to get along with "Blue Launch" back before the actual book signing started.

"Oh yeah, I meant to ask ya somethin'," Launch said as Bulma started trying to herd her out of her office and towards the elevator. Jaco shook his head at them from his desk as they walked by, obviously amused at Bulma's predicament, and she resisted the urge to flip him off. "Who's that nice piece of ass at the front desk? The tall, bald one." Bulma sighed and jabbed the elevator call button twelve times in a row, as though it would make it arrive faster. "Is he single? He's _hot_."

~~~

"Thank you! I hope you enjoy it!"

Bulma leaned against the doorway of the adult programming and conference room and watched Launch smile at and chat with the crowd gathered at her signing table. Thankfully, she'd sneezed again just before the signing had started and gone back to her sweeter self. But Bulma kept herself on standby just in case.

She felt badly for Launch--she'd been dealing with her condition for years, certainly longer than Bulma had known her, and still no one knew why she had two personalities. Or why they only seemed to switch when she sneezed. According to Launch's talk before she started signing, her psychologists had a new theory every week. She managed to live out her day-to-day life and keep herself out of prison, though.

"Bulma, can I talk to you for a second?"

Tien approached her with a stack of papers. "Can you make it quick?" she asked. "Launch is almost done and I want to make sure I'm here for after the signing."

"I'll be quick. Here's the absence forms for Circulation this month," he said, handing her the papers. "Also, Shu wants me to tell you he thinks pages should get more hours."

"Tell him I'm doing what I can. The board thinks pages should work half days only, and I can only do so much." She frowned. "Actually, he should be talking to Krillin. He's the union rep. Tell him to talk to him."

"Honestly I don't think he absorbed anything to do with union stuff when we hired him," Tien sighed. "He's a hard worker, but he's kind of...thick."

"Thank you all so much for coming!" Bulma's attention was pulled back to the room as Launch smiled at everyone, gave a small appreciative wave, and headed over to Bulma with a bounce in her step. "That went well!" she said. "You know, I was a little worried they'd want to see me switch, but everyone was so respectful and--" She sneezed.

Bulma quickly put Tien between herself and Launch. Confused, Tien started to turn to talk to her, but was suddenly grabbed by the arm.

"Hey there, hot stuff," Blonde Launch said, waggling her eyebrows.

Tien's entire face, head, neck, and ears flushed red. "Uh."

"Sorry," Bulma whispered before discreetly dashing away from her poor sacrificial lamb. She needed to grab some pepper before things really got out of hand. Honestly, if she'd been more on top of things, she would have already had pepper on hand.

Vegeta was in the staff room when she came rushing in. He barely even glanced at her as she rummaged through the cupboards. What an asshole. Some days she couldn't believe she'd married him.

"What's for dinner tonight?" he asked, still not looking up from his magazine. She glared at him, but otherwise ignored the question. If he was going to be rude, he could at least look at her while he was doing it. She was sure there was pepper in the staff room somewhere.

There it was, way at the back of the shelf. "I said, what's for dinner?" Apparently, Vegeta was tired of being ignored. Bulma glanced over. At least he was looking at her this time, even if he was scowling. Vegeta was almost always scowling. Most days she couldn't believe she'd married him.

"Probably pepper or some shit, I don't know." She snagged the tiny package of salt and pepper shakers and headed for the door. "Kind of in the middle of a crisis."

"Crisis?" She didn't even look at him and knew he'd immediately perked up. "What kind of crisis?"

Bulma shot a grin over her shoulder on the way out the door. "Want to watch my friend Launch make Tien _really_ uncomfortable?"

Vegeta was on his feet and following her out the door in seconds.

~~~

"I'm very sorry for any trouble."

Bulma patted Launch's arm. "Launch, honey, don't worry about it; it's fine."

"That was _hilarious_." Bulma severely regretted letting Vegeta tag along. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded, enormous shit-eating grin on his face. "Did you see Shinhan's _face_? He's going to hide in the Circulation office for _weeks_."

Launch looked like she was about to cry. "Vegeta, shut up or you're on the couch for the rest of the week," Bulma snapped.

The smile dropped off Vegeta's face so fast Bulma swore she heard it shatter on the floor.

"Do you think I could apologise to him personally, or do you think that would be poorly received?" Launch asked.

Bulma idly scratched her ear as she thought. "I think he'd be okay with that." Tien appeared from around the corner. "Oh! Tien! Perfect timing!" She pushed Launch forward. "Launch here has something to say to you."

Launch clasped her hands in front of her and ducked her head. "I'm very sorry about earlier."

"Oh." Tien looked from Launch to Bulma, then back. "Uh, that's fine. I just needed to get--"

"Um!" Launch shoved a piece of paper at Tien. "Here! Bulma I'll be in your office!" She scurried off after Tien had taken the paper.

He looked at Bulma again, face pink and expression bewildered. She grinned. "I think you just got a phone number from a cute girl."

Tien stared at the paper. "I got a _what_?"

Vegeta snorted. "What, you've never had someone give you their number before? You're decently attractive; that's hard to believe."

"Vegeta. Couch." Bulma patted Tien on the arm. "You should call her. Launch can be scary, but she's also very sweet." Tien still looked uncomfortable. "I mean, you don't have to date her," Bulma added. "Not if you're already planning on dating Yamcha."

Tien shoved the paper in his pocket, turned on his heel, and walked back the way he came, back ramrod straight and gait stiff. Bulma shook her head and headed towards her office. She was the best boss.


	9. Say Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's May 9th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2016, folks.  
> Did you notice there's a new ship tag for this fic please don't judge me

It wasn't the biggest mess he'd ever had to clean up, but it was still an inconvenience. The kid who had made the mess was on the verge of tears next to him, stammering around his poor grasp of English and twisting his clothes in his hands. Piccolo sighed internally and started gathering up an entire shelf's worth of junior non-fiction. How pulling out one book had caused the entire row to come tumbling to the floor was a mystery to him, but this was part of his job, too. Reorganizing the children's geography section wasn't how he'd planned to spend his evening, but at least it gave him an excuse to get Mai away from the desk. She'd been hovering over him since lunch like some kind of well-meaning insect. It was annoying.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Piccolo," blubbered the boy. "I didn't mean to."

Piccolo breathed in and out slowly, then patted the boy's shoulder. "It's okay, Dende; I'm not angry." He stopped himself from adding "just disappointed" just in time. "Go get Mr. Shinhan from the Circulation desk, okay? Tell him I need a couple of pages to help me out." Dende nodded, eyes wide and lower lip quivering, and ran off. "Don't run," Piccolo called after him.

"Mr. Piccolo?"

He looked over his shoulder and there were Son Gohan and Videl Satan, together as usual. Gohan looked worried; Videl just looked bored. "Do you want some help?" Gohan asked. "It's a big mess."

Piccolo shook his head. "No. That's what pages are for."

Videl scratched the side of her nose. "See, Gohan, Mr. Piccolo's fine. Let's go."

"What's a page, Mr. Piccolo?" Gohan asked. "Like in a book?"

"That's just what we call the people who put books away," Piccolo explained. "Go read or something; I have work to do." He turned back to his gathering.

"We need books to read," Gohan said.

Videl tugged his arm. "We can get those ourselves. Come on, let's go get Dende and steal the beanbag chairs from the program room again."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Piccolo said. "Now go on, get out of here." He heard their footsteps disappearing around the corner, Gohan's excited chattering fading away. He sighed. Kids.

"Well, I have to say I'm impressed."

Piccolo counted to ten in his head, then stood and turned to face the wrinkled man behind him. "How about everyone leaves me alone today?" he snapped. "Especially you. Go away."

The old man leaned on his walking stick. "Now, is that any way to treat a relative? It's good to see you, Piccolo."

At that moment, a head poked around the side of the bookshelf. "Tien sent me," said Shu, a short, hairy page from Circulation. "I'm the only one he could spare."

Of course Tien wasn't sending Chiaotzu, the competent one. That would just be too convenient. "Here," Piccolo said, thrusting his pile of books at Shu. "I'll send Mai over to help you. Maybe if we're lucky Yamcha will loan us Pilaf. Get to work."

"Yes, sir!" Shu grabbed the books and started sorting.

Piccolo pushed past the two men and stalked to the Children and Youth Services desk. "Cleanup on aisle ten," he said to Mai, pointing. "Shu's there already."

Mai sighed and stood up. "Are you helping this gentleman?" she asked, nodding at someone behind Piccolo. He didn't have to turn around to know the old man had followed him.

He scowled. "No. He's just following me around. Get to work."

She squeaked an apology and scurried towards the mess.

Piccolo turned back to the other man and growled, "I'm kind of busy right now, Uncle Kami."

Kami waved a hand airily. "By all means, get this sorted out. We can talk after."

Fuming, Piccolo stormed around to the other side of the desk. His uncle had been poking his nose into Piccolo's business for years, with no sign of slowing down in his old age. He was just as stubborn as Piccolo's father, maybe even more so. And of course he just had to show up on _today_ of all days, didn't he. Just perfect.

The phone call to Information Services was quick, terse, and to the point. Yamcha was clearly still annoyed with Piccolo about what happened at lunch, but he agreed to send someone down. Piccolo hung up once he'd negotiated Pilaf's assistance and folded his arms at Kami. "Well?" he said. "What do you want this time?"

The old man leaned more of his weight on his cane. "Am I not allowed to visit my nephew?"

"I should get a restraining order," Piccolo muttered.

"Truthfully, _I_ am the one with grounds for a restraining order."

"That was _one time_!" Piccolo snapped. "And I fixed your damn geraniums afterwards, didn't I?"

"Mr. Popo was quite upset for several days."

"Stop bringing that up," he growled, heat rising to his face. "I was just a hotheaded kid."

Kami smiled, that obnoxious serene one he got on his face sometimes that Piccolo absolutely _loathed_. He always smiled like that before he was about to say something either benevolent or dickish, and honestly Piccolo wasn't sure which was more annoying. "And what are you now but a hotheaded adult?"

Dickish it was, then. "Are you actually here for a purpose besides pissing me off?" he snapped. "Or did you just want a reminder that I haven't killed anyone and you can sleep well at night knowing your _demon nephew_ isn't going rogue?"

That wiped the smile from his uncle's face, but all his energy seemed to drain out of him at once and Piccolo was reminded of just how frail Kami was. He felt guilty, then annoyed with himself for feeling guilty. If Kami wanted to bother Piccolo at work he was going to have to suffer the consequences. "Do you even know what day it is?" Kami asked quietly.

Piccolo dug his fingers into the desk so hard he cracked the wood. The sound echoed sharply through the library, and though a few patrons looked to see what sort of showdown was happening at the children's department, they soon hurried about their business.

"I'll take that as a yes." Kami sighed. "You know that you can call me on this day, or any other--"

"Why?" Piccolo's voice was entirely devoid of emotion. "Why would I ever do that? I barely tolerate your presence here; why would I purposely put myself in contact with you, on a day I actively try to pretend doesn't exist?"

"You must talk with _someone_." Kami punctuated his statement with a tap on the floor from his cane. "And I know you don't confide in your coworkers, and who do you talk to aside from them?"

"Mr. Piccolo?"

Piccolo hadn't realized he'd been clenching his teeth. He forced his jaw to relax before looking down to see Gohan, dark eyes wide with worry. "Dende and Videl and me--"

"And I," Piccolo corrected automatically, inwardly kicking himself immediately after.

"And I," Gohan corrected, "Dende and Videl and I heard a noise and I thought it was from the desk." He ran a hand over the desktop, stopping just shy of the cracked and splintered area Piccolo had just broken. "I guess it was. What happened?"

"Nothing, Gohan." Piccolo came out from behind the desk, grabbing a picture book off of it as he did. "Here," he said, handing it to Gohan. "Go read this with Dende. Or Videl, I don't care."

Gohan looked down at the book. " _The Day the Crayons Quit_ ," he read aloud. He beamed up at Piccolo. "Thanks, Mr. Piccolo!"

"Go on, get out of here." He shooed Gohan away and he trotted off, waving at Piccolo over his shoulder. Piccolo rubbed his neck. Thank heaven for little miracles.

"Isn't that Son Goku's son?"

Fuck. He'd almost forgotten about the old man. "Yes," he said tersely. "What about it?"

"Nothing, nothing." Kami gave Piccolo an appraising look, and Piccolo folded his arms and refused to squirm. "I suppose that answers my question," he chuckled.

"Shut up." It had less bite to it than usual, and Piccolo knew it. He walked back behind his desk, trying to signal that the conversation was over, and ran a hand over the broken wood. Bulma would yell at him over this, but ultimately forgive him, and maybe they'd actually get a desktop with a decent writing surface out of it. One could only hope.

"You'll give yourself a splinter."

"Not _now_ , old-timer." He made the mistake of glancing up at Kami. The old man had a glint in his eye, one that said he was inviting Piccolo to share in a particularly funny joke. Piccolo remembered that look from his childhood, back before he'd been cut off from his father's biological family entirely, back when he didn't hate everyone in the world with every fiber of his soul.

"They bought me a cake," Piccolo blurted. "I don't know how they found out, but Yamcha insisted I needed a cake because it's my birthday. It was carrot. I told them I was allergic to carrots and left so I wouldn't have to deal with it. Mai found me in my office shaking. I said that if she told anyone I'd tear out her throat, but she just patted my shoulder and sat next to me for twenty minutes. If I think too much about what day it is I get the shakes and then I have to start thinking about what's _wrong_ with me and most people are _happy_ on their birthdays, aren't they?"

"Most people don't have the circumstances around their birthdays that you do."

Piccolo clenched his fists. How the fuck did the old man do it? Even if he didn't want to he always ended up telling him everything on his mind. "Well. Happy fucking Piccolo Day. Can you leave now?"

Kami laid a hand on Piccolo's arm, and it was a testament to Piccolo's self control that he didn't try to rip it off. "Come and see me," he said gently. "You know you're always welcome in my house. 'Demon nephew' or no."

"If this is a ploy to get me to come to church--"

"Piccolo, please." Kami looked tired. "Come see Mr. Popo and me anytime. Regardless of circumstance."

Piccolo's hand tightened and he winced as a chunk of wood dug into his hand. "Maybe."

Recognizing that that was the best he'd get out of him, Kami patted Piccolo's arm before stepping back. "Well, I should be going."

"Yes, yes you should." Piccolo caught a glimpse of someone approaching the desk and took a deep breath, trying to regain his professionalism. His stomach dropped when he recognized who it was. "Oh no."

Kami followed his gaze, eyebrows rising steadily as a man who looked very similar to Piccolo sauntered over. "Hi," he said.

"Hello, Nail," Piccolo said, looking away. "You'll be looking for Dende, then." He could feel his face heating again. Wasn't this just the goddamn cherry on top. Nail always made him get weird and he hated it and he absolutely did not want to get weird in front of his uncle. He'd never let Piccolo live it down.

"Yeah, do you know where he is? You always seem to have him and his friends on your radar."

Kami was giving him a look hat was part proud and part amused. He ignored him. "I'll show you," he said, if only so he could get away from Kami before he did something embarrassing. Piccolo came around the desk, looking steadily at the ground, and bumped into someone. _Please let it be Uncle Kami,_ he thought, but no, of course not, the universe didn't like him enough for it to be anyone but Nail. So now they were chest to chest and _God_ Nail was _smirking_ at him that _bastard_ why was Piccolo's stomach doing weird things fuck this shit. "This way," he grumbled, pushing past the other two men and stalking between two rows.

He could hear Kami call "Be safe!" after him and it was a testament to Piccolo's self control that he didn't flip him off over his shoulder.


	10. Nine Thousand and Eighty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Technical Services department has been working hard recently. Maybe a little too hard...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me Dende for I have sinned

“Well holy fuckin’ shit.”

Raditz’s quiet declaration barely got any reaction out of his two coworkers. Nappa at least glanced at him from behind his computer. Vegeta continued scanning barcodes of books to be deleted, not even looking at Raditz as he rolled his eyes.

“So I’m compiling my half-year report,” Raditz continued, because this was a big deal, goddammit, even if the other two hardly ever cared about what he had to say. “And you’ll never guess how many new items we’ve gone through so far this year.”

“No one cares, Raditz,” Vegeta said, piling more onto his stack of deleted items. The pile was starting to look rickety, and Raditz wondered if it’d be worth the trip to Bulma’s office if he nudged it just so to have it come crashing down around Vegeta’s ears. Then he remembered Cell was there as well and decided against it.

“Your wife does,” he shot back instead. “She’s the one who told me to do the damn thing.”

“Go show it to her then.”

“No, seriously, guess how many items have gone through here in the last six months.”

“A thousand,” Nappa supplied. Raditz didn’t really like either of his office-mates, but Nappa was at least less awful to work with than Vegeta most of the time.

Raditz shook his head. “Higher.”

“Two thousand?”

“Not even close.”

“Eight thousand,” Vegeta said, with the air of someone who thought his answer was way over the top.

Raditz grinned. “Higher.”

That got Vegeta’s attention. He stopped what he was doing and actually looked at Raditz. “You’re joking.”

Still grinning, Raditz handed over his report. “We’re on fire this year. I have no idea where we’re getting all these--I think at least half of them are donations--but it’s sure making our department look good.”

Vegeta’s eyes scanned the document, finally stopping about two-thirds of the way down the page. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Nappa leaned around his computer. “Well, Vegeta? What’s it say? Don’t leave me in suspense over here.”

Scowling, Vegeta flung the paper back at Raditz, hitting him in the face with it. “It’s over nine thousand.” He sounded ready to tear someone’s throat out.

Nappa slammed his hands on his desk and was on his feet in an instant. “What?! Nine thousand?!”

“Nine thousand and eighty-one, to be exact.” Smiling smugly, Raditz picked up his discarded report. “That’s with new items, donations, recatalogued and other problem items, and repairs. I’m just gonna run this upstairs to Bulma--”

“Wait, hold on a minute.” Vegeta interrupting Raditz was nothing new, but the look of concentrated death on his face was. It didn’t make sense to Raditz--this was good news, right? “Can you...fudge the numbers a little?”

Raditz scowled, affronted. “No! Why would I? With numbers like these, maybe we can finally convince them to give us more staff, since we’re clearly overworked.”

Vegeta shook his head. “No, you idiot, you don’t understand anything.”

“I’m with Vegeta on this one,” Nappa piped up. Raditz resisted the urge to mutter “surprise, surprise” under his breath--Nappa almost always took Vegeta’s side. “There’s no way they’ll hire more staff for our department. The budget--”

“The budget’s all clearly going into purchasing,” Raditz interrupted. “If they stopped buying five copies of everything--”

“Raditz, shut up and listen for once, you deranged buffoon.” Vegeta folded his arms. “If you tell Bulma we processed over nine thousand items in six months--what is that, about fifteen hundred items a month? She’s going to expect that and more from us all the time.”

“That’s how it works,” Nappa agreed. “If they think you’re good at your job, they’ll hold onto you. If they think you’re _really_ good at your job, they’ll give you even more to do.”

“Around eight thousand is good,” Vegeta said. “Over nine thousand is _too_ good.”

Raditz looked down at his report. Maybe he could cut out a few copies of Launch's _Good Cop, Bad Cop_ \--they’d bought, like, eight copies--and a few other things. And some of those donations...

“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally said.

Vegeta’s smile was tight and thin-lipped. “Good to see you _can_ understand things more complicated than ‘label goes on spine.’“

Raditz made sure to ‘accidentally’ bump into Vegeta’s tower of discards on the way back to his desk.


	11. First Comes Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan, Dende, and Videl are best friends. And best friends are supposed to get married, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea when my children became my OT3 but here I am screaming about my Super Nerd Patrol feels in hfil  
> Bonus PiccoNail and GoChi for reasons  
> Also Tien you don't get to make fun of anyone for their weird crushes ok you still can't look Yamcha in the eyes without wanting to profess your love for him in the most embarrassing manner possible

The man was big and had a scary face. He stood in front of Dende and Cargo with his arms folded and a scowl that looked permanent. Actually, if Dende looked at him from the right angle, he looked a lot like his cousin Nail.

"You must be Moori's kids," the man said.

Dende nodded, twisting his hands in his shirt. This man's scary face made him nervous. "Yeah," Cargo said from next to him. "I'm Cargo, and he's Dende."

"My name is Mr. Piccolo. I run After School Readers." Mr. Piccolo glanced at a clipboard he was holding. "Says here you two are only signed up for a one week run, huh?"

"Daddy said we can't go to Grandpa's this week 'cause he has to go to the hospital," said Cargo. Dende squirmed. He didn't like it when Grandpa went to the hospital--he came out tired and quiet and Nail fussed over him more than usual and everyone was really stressed and sad whenever it happened. It was the first time it had happened since the boys had started school, though, so it was the first time they didn't have someone to look after them while their father was at work.

Mr. Piccolo looked down at Dende. "Your dad said you usually let your brother speak for you. That true?"

"Yep," said Cargo. Dende nodded again. "He's shy," Cargo added, "and I'm better at English."

Mr. Piccolo shook his head. "Not gonna fly here. I don't know what they let you get away with at school, but here you'll speak for yourself."

Dende's eyes went wide as saucers and he shook his head violently. "No!" he blurted.

"So you _can_ talk." Mr. Piccolo looked annoyed, thoughtful, and a little bit pleased. "I was starting to wonder." Dende looked down again, embarrassed. "I don't care what language you use, but I want you to use your own words." His voice was firm, but not unkind. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Go on in. There's a couple of kids your age in there already. When we have some more we'll have storytime. In the meantime, there's books around. Grab one. Or more; I don't care."

Cargo tugged on Dende's hand and Dende followed him into the room, keeping his eyes down to avoid Mr. Piccolo's. He might've looked like Nail, but he wasn't nearly as nice.

The program room was a pretty nice space. It was sort of cramped with tables and chairs and piles of books everywhere. But it was brightly lit and the walls were painted to look like mountains. One wall even had a mural of a group of children putting a bright red flag on a high snowy peak. There weren't many kids there, and most of them were older than Dende and Cargo. Dende tried to grip Cargo's hand a little tighter, but Cargo wandered off to look at a stack of books and Dende didn't, so he was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room by himself.

"Hi!"

Dende jumped at the voice from behind him. A boy about his age was there, with long dark hair, a winning smile, and at least four books clutched in his arms. Dende looked closer and found they were all about space. A girl around the same age appeared next to him, squinting at Dende like she wasn't sure what to make of him and twirling one of her black pigtails around a finger. "I'm Gohan," the boy said.

Dende twisted his shirt in his hands and looked around for Cargo, but he was talking to another boy--Dende recognized him from class--and couldn't help him. He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Hi," he mumbled.

"I'm Videl," the girl announced. "I'm Gohan's bodyguard."

"Videl," Gohan whined. "I don't need a bodyguard."

"Yes you do and I'm it." It sounded like a conversation they'd had before, several times.

They were looking at him expectantly. Dende gripped his shirt even tighter. "'M Dende."

"Wanna read with us?" Gohan asked. "Mr. Piccolo's gonna read to us later but we gotta wait until there's more kids."

He wanted to run away, but it was a small room and there was nowhere to go. "I...I can't read too good," he whispered. "'Specially not in English."

Videl scratched the side of her nose. "Gohan can read. I can too, kinda."

"We could read to you!" Gohan suggested.

Dende squirmed and shook his head. Why wasn't Cargo staying with him? Why were they even at this stupid library when neither of them could read most of the books anyway?

"Aw, come on!" Gohan grabbed Dende's hand. "There's beanbag chairs over there and me an' Videl can read you stuff!" He started pulling Dende along, Videl at his elbow. Dende looked around wildly for someone to help him, but Cargo was still talking to the kid from school and he didn't know anyone else. He caught Mr. Piccolo's eye, but the man just shook his head and looked almost fond.

Gohan suddenly released him and settled into a blue beanbag. Videl flopped into a yellow one beside him. Gohan patted the green one on the other side of him. "Come on, Dende! I hope you like books about space!"

Dende hesitated. He _did_ like books about space. He worried at the hem of his shirt and looked back at Cargo one last time. Cargo was seemingly oblivious to his brother's plight. Dende sighed and looked at Gohan and Videl. Videl had snuggled down into her beanbag chair and was peering at the book Gohan was holding out. She looked up at Dende and smiled. Gohan patted the green beanbag again and smiled as well.

Dende sat.

~~~

Gohan's lower lip quivered and fat tears started welling up in his eyes. "How come you can't go?"

Videl shook her head. "I _told_ you. Daddy's coming to talk to Mrs. Deaning and I have to be there."

"Is this about the time you threw a baseball at Jeremy or the time you dumped all the blocks on Darryl's head?"

"I think it's about both of them. And the time I kicked Sharpner in the knees."

Gohan gave a watery giggle. "You're so mean, Videl."

"They all deserved it!" she said defensively. "Sharpner took Erasa's juicebox, Jeremy tried to push you off the slide, and Darryl knocked over our tower! If they weren't mean I wouldn't be mean back."

Mrs. Deaning stuck her head into the tiny coatroom. "Gohan, what are you still doing here? It's time to go! The bus is waiting! Videl will see you tomorrow."

Gohan threw his arms around his friend. "Don't cry," she said.

"I'm not," he sniffled.

She pushed him away and patted his head. "Say hi to Dende, okay?"

He brightened at the mention of their other best friend. "Yeah! Okay! See you tomorrow, Videl!" And off he went.

Videl wandered out of the coatroom, flopped onto the circle time carpet, and sulked. "None of that," said Mrs. Deaning. "You can go sit at one of the tables until your dad gets here." Videl dragged herself to a chair, sat down, and continued sulking.

He could've at least _pretended_ he didn't prefer Dende over her. Ever since they'd met, all Gohan talked about was Dende, Dende, Dende. It was getting harder and harder to pretend she wasn't jealous.

And yeah, she liked Dende a lot too. She was glad he'd decided to stay in After School Readers for more than just one week. Once he got past his shyness and started talking more he was really nice and sometimes he'd say something or make a face that made Videl laugh for ten minutes. He gave the best hugs and he was tiny and cute and good with numbers. No wonder Gohan liked him.

But Gohan was her best friend first! And she wasn't going to lose that to a new kid!

~~~

When Videl shuffled into the classroom the next morning, she didn't see Gohan anywhere. "Good morning, Videl," Mrs. Deaning said.

"Hi," Videl replied, still looking around for Gohan. He took the bus and Videl's dad dropped her off, so he was usually at school before she was. She still didn't see him, though.

"Go put your coat and backpack away, please."

Videl trudged into the coatroom and there was Gohan, carefully taking two crumpled pieces of paper out of his backpack. He beamed at her. "Hi, Videl!"

"Hey," she said, hanging her backpack on the hook with her name on it in pink.

"Did you get in trouble again?" Gohan asked. He looked worried. He was always worried about her, even though he didn't need to be. It was part of why she liked him so much. "Dende asked too," he added. "He was really sad when you weren't there yesterday."

Videl was touched. "Well, I'm kinda in trouble," she said. "I have to stay in at recess for the rest of the week with Mr. Logan and do _math_." Videl hated math. "So you have to look out for yourself at recess. But other than that I'm not in trouble."

Gohan immediately perked up. "Yay! That's good!"

"Mmhm." Videl slid out of her jacket and hung it over her backpack. Her jacket had the Superman logo on the back and she was very proud of it. She remembered her dad getting angry at the lady in WalMart who said it was a jacket for boys and that made her love it all the more.

"Here." Gohan shoved the papers at her. "These are for you. Me an' Dende made them because you weren't there yesterday."

Videl took the papers and looked at them. One was a crayon drawing of the three of them holding hands with Mr. Piccolo just off to the side. They were all labelled in Gohan's handwriting. The other was done in pencil crayon and showed the cover of the Supergirl comic book Videl had been reading the last time she was there.

Videl wasn't a cryer--she often said that Gohan cried enough for both of them--but when she launched herself at Gohan in a tearful hug, he didn't seem the least bit surprised.

~~~

A man with long hair poked his head into the program room. "Hey, Piccolo," he said, "is the Satan kid here?"

Videl looked up from her book. So did Dende and Gohan. Mr. Piccolo glanced at them, then back at the other man. "Why?"

The man sighed. "Remember that one guy who was here last week looking at cookbooks and screaming until he was red in the face?"

Gohan saw a look of resigned recognition come over both Videl's and Mr. Piccolo's faces. "The one that only shut up when Hercule showed up?"

"That's the one."

"Uncle Buu is here?" Videl asked. She sounded just as enthused about the news as Mr. Piccolo.

The man looked directly at her. "Yeah. He's just outside. He wants to read with you until your dad gets here, if that's okay."

"Yamcha," Mr. Piccolo started, "I don't think it's a good idea to have random grownups in with the After School--"

"Buu _isn't_ a random grownup; Videl knows him," Yamcha said. "Besides, Hercule usually gets here at quarter after four, right? It'll only be about half an hour."

Mr. Piccolo's eye twitched. Gohan glanced at Dende, who shrugged. Neither of them had any idea who this Buu guy was.

Videl stood up. "We can go sit somewhere else," she said.

Dende scrambled to his feet, Gohan following suit. "We'll go with you," Dende said. Gohan nodded. Uncle or not, they weren't letting Videl go off with some random grownup--she protected them enough, now it was their turn.

The two adults exchanged a look (Gohan had seen his parents do a similar one when deciding whether he could go to Videl's house) before Mr. Piccolo sighed. "Alright, but you stay close to the desk, okay? Where Miss Mai can see you. If there are any problems talk to Miss Mai. If Buu starts screaming you can leave him there. I don't care," he continued when Videl started to interrupt him, "if he screams all the time. If he starts screaming in the library you can shush him. If he doesn't quiet down you can leave and come back here."

"Can we take the beanbags with us?" Gohan asked. Normally Mr. Piccolo was pretty strict about where the beanbag chairs Should and Should Not Be. But he was pretty lenient if he was already being strict about something else.

To his credit, Mr. Piccolo tried to look like he was annoyed about it. "Sure. Fine. Take one for Buu, too."

When they arrived in the big carpeted area in front of the Children and Youth Services desk, there was a man there waiting for him that Gohan assumed was Buu. He was _huge_. Tall and fat and ruddy-faced, with sqinty eyes and a pout. He was reading a book with a picture of a cake on the front, but he was holding it upside down. Videl made a beeline for him and hugged him around the legs, the only part of him she could reach. "Hi, Uncle Buu."

Buu grinned and squatted down to hug Videl back. "Little Satan! Read to Buu!"

Gohan dragged his chair over to them and plopped it down. Buu looked at him, then at Dende. "Little Satan's friends?"

"They're gonna read with us too," Videl said reassuringly. Dende put his beanbag next to Gohan's and settled down in it, keeping an eye on Videl and Buu. "We're gonna read about firefighter cats."

Buu pouted. "Buu wants food books."

"No." Videl folded her arms. "I can't read the food books. Find me a food book I can read and I'll read it to you. If you can't we're reading about firefighter cats."

Buu looked like he was going to start wailing, but instead he collapsed into the beanbag Videl had brought him and let out the biggest sigh Gohan had ever heard. "Fine. Firefighter cats. Then Buu find easier food book."

Videl's dad found them half an hour later all piled onto one beanbag chair and arguing about the pronunciation of "quiche."

~~~

"Did you know you can't breathe in space?"

Videl looked up at Gohan from where she was sprawled on the library carpet and shook her head. "Nope. How come?"

"'Cause there's no air."

"Oh. Why?"

Gohan peered at his book. "I don't know. It doesn't say."

"That's silly," Dende piped up. "Why would they tell you that and not say how come?"

"Maybe it's in another book." Gohan closed the book he was reading and picked up a new one. "This one's bad anyway. The pictures are bad. And there's no index."

Videl snorted. "You sound like Mr. Piccolo."

He beamed at her. "Really?"

She rolled her eyes and went back to her comic book.

"Dende, there you are."

The kids looked up to see Dende's cousin Nail approaching them. Dende smiled at him. "Hi, Nail! Where's Dad and Cargo?"

Nail patted Dende's bald head. "Uncle Moori has to work late. Cargo's still at Grandpa's so Grandpa sent me to get you so you're both there when your dad gets off work."

Videl squinted at him. "Who're you?"

Dende and Gohan both started to chastise her for being rude, but Nail just smiled. "I'm Dende's cousin. My name is Nail."

"Nail, can't I stay a few more minutes?" Dende pleaded. "Just five minutes? Please?"

Nail shook his head. "Sorry, Dende. Grandpa said to come home right away. And besides, I can't be away from him for very long. You know how it is."

Mr. Piccolo appeared before Dende could ask again. "Gohan, your mother is here." He pointed as Chi-Chi approached, giving Mr. Piccolo a wide berth.

"Time to go, sweetie!" she said. "Let's get your books checked out and go home, okay?"

Gohan sighed and started gathering up the books he wanted to take home. "Okay."

Videl sat up and looked at Mr. Piccolo. "Is my daddy here yet?"

He shrugged. "Haven't seen him."

"Nail, can't we stay until Videl's dad gets here?" Dende pleaded.

"Me too, Mommy?" Gohan added. "Please?"

Chi-Chi wavered. Nail did not. "No, Dende. I have to get home to Grandpa right away, and you have to come with me."

Dende sighed and pouted, but picked up his book. He knew Nail was right--if Nail wasn't at home with Grandpa, there was always a nurse or one of Nail's med student friends there, except if Nail was picking up Dende. "Will Grandpa read to me when we get there?"

"Grandpa was asleep when I left, but if he can't, I will." Nail took Dende's books. "Do you need to check these out?"

"Yeah." If Dende had known Nail would be the one picking him up, he would've checked them out beforehand.

"Let's go and do that, then." Nail turned to Mr. Piccolo. "Thanks for always taking good care of Dende."

Mr. Piccolo shrugged, looking more uncomfortable than Dende had ever seen him. "Whatever," he grumbled.

Dende hugged Gohan, then Videl. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

Nail gave Mr. Piccolo a smile--a weird smile, an eyes-half-closed smile that Dende had never seen him give anyone before--and Mr. Piccolo clenched his jaw and looked away. "Bye," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and stalking off.

Dende looked back as he took Nail's hand and started toward the checkout desk. "Nail," he said, "do you like Mr. Piccolo?"

Nail looked down at him, part surprised and part embarrassed. "What? Of course I do. He's nice."

"Not really." Dende put his books on the counter so Mr. Shinhan could check them out. "He's kinda loud and scary sometimes."

"He means well," Nail said. Dende frowned. Adults always said that. "Don't _you_ like Mr. Piccolo?"

"Yeah," Dende said. "But you _love_ Mr. Piccolo, right?"

Nail's face flushed at that, and Dende noticed Mr. Shinhan trying not to laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please tell me you actually have a crush on Piccolo," Mr. Shinhan said. "Because I will die laughing and _what a death_."

"I have nothing of the kind." Nail snatched up Dende's books in one hand and grabbed Dende's hand with the other. "Let's go now, Dende."

"Are you and Mr. Piccolo going to get married?" Dende asked. "Can I go? Cargo and I couldn't go when Dad went to a wedding last week; so can I go to yours? Because boys can marry boys. Gohan said so."

"Of course Gohan said so," Nail muttered. They were out of the library at this point. "No, Dende, I'm not marrying Mr. Piccolo."

"Why not? I want to marry Gohan when we get older."

Nail choked. "Don't you think you should ask Gohan first? That's why I'm not marrying Mr. Piccolo--I haven't even asked him on a date or anything."

Dende thought. "How many dates do you have to go on before you can get married?"

"Lots! Can we stop talking about this now? How was school?"

~~~

"Gohan, what do you want for your birthday?"

It was a Sunday and Videl was at Gohan's house. Dende couldn't visit on Sundays because he had church in the morning and visited his grandpa in the afternoons, so usually it was just Videl and Gohan. Gohan's mom's cafe was closed on Sundays, so they often ended up at his house, colouring and playing dress-up.

Gohan propped his hand on his chin and looked at her. "I don't know," he said. "Crayons?"

"Don't ask _me_ ," Videl said. "Your party's next week, right? Daddy said we could go get your present after the library tomorrow, so I wanna know what you want. If you don't tell me I'm getting you a Superman action figure."

He still looked indecisive. "I wanna book about Brazil. Or Mars."

Videl blinked. "Why Brazil?" Mars she understood--Gohan was always talking about space. Brazil was new though.

"That's where Dende's from," he said. "I've never read about Brazil. Mommy's had me read about China and Japan before, because that's where she and Daddy are from, but I don't know about Brazil. Yeah, a book about Brazil."

"Okay." Videl went back to her colouring book. Superman and Wonder Woman were fighting a giant lizard. She was colouring the lizard orange. "Have you ever been to China? Or Japan?"

"Nope." Gohan reached across her to grab a yellow crayon for the cat he was colouring. "Mommy says she'll take me someday, but not for a long time."

"I think you and me and Dende should all go," Videl said. "When we're grownups. We should go on a big trip to Japan and China and Brazil and see what's there." She paused. "I don't know what's there."

"There's a really big wall in China," Gohan suggested. "And a big tower in Japan. I've seen pictures."

"Okay, we'll go there. And when you have your Brazil book we'll figure out where we're going in Brazil."

Gohan grinned at her, and Videl smiled back. She knew that wherever she was in the world, as long as Gohan and Dende were with her, it would feel like she'd never left home.

~~~

Dende pulled his knees to his chest. "I can't believe school's almost over."

Gohan, Dende, and Videl were the only three children left in the program room. That was how it usually happened, what had been happening for the last six months. Mr. Piccolo was cleaning up and hauling around stacks of picture books. Gohan had asked if he wanted help, but he'd brushed him off. "This is what they pay me the big bucks for, kid," he'd said, and even the five year old could tell he was being sarcastic.

"The summer reading program's gonna start soon," Videl said. "Gohan and me--"

"And I," corrected Mr. Piccolo.

"And _me_ ," Videl said, "came last year." Mr. Piccolo rolled his eyes and muttered something about a "lost cause." "Daddy signed me up for this year already."

"Me too," Gohan said. "Mommy wasn't happy about it, though." He saw Mr. Piccolo tense across the room. "Are you okay, Mr. Piccolo?"

"Read a damn book," he snapped. That was what he always said when he didn't want to talk about something. Gohan decided to drop the subject.

"I'm not sure I can go," Dende said morosely. "My dad said Cargo and I might be going to a sitter's this summer because we can't stay with Grandpa and Nail all the time."

Gohan reached out and gave his friend a hug. "I'm sure we'll see you other places! You and Videl can come to my house and my mom will make us jiaozi and hot pot again!" They'd had both at Gohan's birthday party, and Dende had eaten so many jiaozi he'd made himself sick.

"And you can come over to my house and we'll make pillow forts and play Mario Kart," Videl added. "And no stinky dogs are allowed in the pillow fort this time."

Dende clung to Gohan's shirt and seemed to be thinking about something. "Gohan," he said, "can we get married?"

Mr. Piccolo dropped an entire stack of books on his foot.

"When we get older," Dende added. "Because married people see each other every day and you're supposed to marry your best friend, or at least that's what Grandpa said, and if we got married then we could always be together."

"Oh," Gohan said. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"No way!" Videl shouted, lunging over and hugging Gohan around the shoulders. " _I_ wanna marry Gohan!"

Mr. Piccolo, who had just finished picking up the books he dropped, promptly dropped them all on his other foot.

"Um," Gohan said.

They both stared at him intently. "Well?" Videl asked.

Gohan looked to Mr. Piccolo for help, but he'd gathered up his books again and booked it out of the room. "C...can't we _all_ get married?" Gohan suggested. "All three of us? If you're supposed to marry your best friend and stuff, then that'd make sense, right?"

Dende and Videl looked thoughtful. Then Dende nodded and reached for Videl's hand. "Okay."

Videl put her chin on Gohan's shoulder and held hands with Dende. "Yeah, okay."

When Mr. Piccolo came in and found them, they had all fallen asleep curled up in a single beanbag chair.

~~~

"Marriage?" Chi-Chi asked. "I think you're a little young for that, dear."

Gohan pouted. "Oh, c'mon, Chi," Goku said, patting Gohan on the head. "We were pretty young when we got engaged, too."

"Yes, but that was halfway to an arranged marriage and we weren't _five_."

"Six," Gohan corrected.

“Of course, because _that_ makes everything okay!” Chi-Chi was getting that voice again, the loud, high one that usually meant Goku was in trouble. This time, though, the one in trouble was Gohan.

"But Mom--"

"Don't 'but Mom' me, young man. You're not getting married until you're at least eighteen; I don't care what Videl said about next Saturday."

"But it's my _wedding_. I have to go."

"You are not getting married next Saturday at the library!"

Goku went over to her and snaked his arms around her from behind. "Aw, Chi, it won't be a real wedding."

"Yes it will," Gohan said confidently.

"No, it won't," Chi-Chi snapped, "because it's not going to happen at all. I'm going to call Videl's daddy right now--"

The phone rang and Chi-Chi sighed, extracting herself from her husband's grip. "That's probably him now. Or Dende's daddy." She pointed at Gohan. "This conversation isn't over, young man." Then she dashed off to answer the phone.

Goku pulled out a chair at the table next to Gohan and sat down. "So you want to marry both Videl and Dende, huh?"

Gohan nodded solemnly. "They're my best friends."

"Gohan, you don't have to marry someone just because they're your best friend. If that were true, I would've married Uncle Krillin." Gohan wrinkled his nose. He couldn't imagine his parents married to anyone but each other. "There are lots of reasons people get married," Goku continued. "Mommy could probably explain this better'n me, but mostly people get married because they love the other person in a certain way."

"That's why you and Mommy got married, right?" Gohan asked.

Goku paused. "Sorta. We got married when we were real young, and engaged even younger. Heck, at the time I didn't know I was getting engaged! Her daddy and my grandpa were friends, and they said wouldn't it be nice if our kids were married, and, well, things kind of snowballed from there."

Gohan frowned, turning the concept over in his head. "So...you don't love Mommy?"

"I never said that," Goku said immediately. "I do love Mommy, but our marriage was...unconventional." When Gohan looked at him blankly, he tried again. "It wasn't like a lot of marriages are here," he explained. "Sure, she chose her own husband and I chose my own wife, but we did it a lot younger than most people in West City do. And you're even younger than we were then." He scratched his head. "I'm having a hard time putting it into words, but I think the reason Mommy's so upset is because she doesn't want you to get married so young and then find out you love Dende and Videl in a different way. A not-marriage way."

"That," Chi-Chi said, returning from the other room, "and children aren't allowed to get married. It's illegal." She looked at Goku fondly, then turned her attention back to her son. "That was Videl's daddy on the phone, like I thought. He said Videl can't get married next Saturday either."

Gohan's lower lip quivered. "Then we're just gonna leave Dende at the altar?"

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Where do you pick up this stuff? No. Dende won't be there either. I talked to his daddy as well."

Gohan buried his face in his arms. "Why won't you just let us get married?" he wailed.

"Because you're six!" Chi-Chi yelled. "Six year olds go to school and learn things and draw pictures of dragons and dream about going to China and Japan and Brazil with their best friends and _don't get married_!" She took a deep, calming breath. Goku took her hand and squeezed it. "Besides, you haven't even been on any dates yet."

Gohan looked up at her and sniffled. "How many dates do you have to go on before you can get married?"

"Lots!" She sighed. "How about this: you and Dende and Videl can be engaged. That means you all promise to marry each other when you're older. And if you ever decide you don't want to marry them, you can be un-engaged. Sound fair?"

Gohan thought. "I guess." Secretly, though, he knew he'd never decide to get un-engaged. He didn't quite understand what his father had meant by loving someone in a "not-marriage" way, but he thought that was how he loved his parents and grandpa and Mr. Piccolo and Uncle Krillin. He loved Videl and Dende--he'd loved Videl and Dende for six months--and it was different. He wasn't sure how, and even if he was he didn't have the vocabulary to put it into words.

But as far as Gohan was concerned, he'd see Dende and Videl at the library every day from now until the day they _did_ get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows I'm probably going to take a short break from WCPL so I can focus on getting OFNE completed like I wanted to. Not a long break; hopefully OFNE won't take _too_ long to finish up, but just so you're all aware.
> 
> Also, follow westcitpubliclibrary on tumblr because sometimes I talk about minor worldbuilding things that I don't bring up in the fic proper or that won't show up in the fic proper but are cute/fun to talk about. Also art (including a companion art piece to this chapter shortly). And excerpts from unposted chapters. Yes.


	12. Nature Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lazurite from Maintenance has gone missing again, and Bulma sends Lapis to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to greentrickster/Tie-Dyed Trickster for suggesting Lazurite for Android 16's name!

"IT Department, Lapis speaking."

"Lapis, where's Lazurite?"

Lapis sighed, absently twirling the phone cord around one finger. "When was the big guy supposed to be back from break?"

"Twenty minutes ago." Bulma's sigh echoed through the phone line. "He's supposed to be working on fixing the air conditioner; it's been on the fritz since last summer and we haven't needed it since then, but it's starting to get warm out. Can you go find him for me? You're the only one who ever seems to be able to get him to come back to work."

"Well..." Lapis pretended to be thinking about it.

"Lapis." Bulma's voice turned hard, and he remembered why she was in charge.

"Alright, alright. I'll go. I'm pretty sure I know where he is, anyway."

"Thanks. Tell him Bulma needs to see him when you find him." She hung up.

"No one ever says goodbye anymore," Lapis lamented, hanging up. He stood up and stretched. "I have to go get Lazurite," he said to his sister.

Lazuli looked up at him from her desk. "Did he go AWOL again?"

"Yep. I've got a pretty good idea where he is, though. Back in a few. Think you can handle our massive workload by yourself for a while?"

She glanced at her computer, where she'd been scrolling Facebook for the last hour and a half. "Gee, I don't know," she said flatly. "How will I ever manage."

He peeked over her shoulder. "You're not talking to your boyfriend on there, are you?"

"Go find Lazurite, you dick."

"That means yes," he called over his shoulder as he left their cramped office.

There was a lovely courtyard just behind the library. It had been built specifically for library use, and during the warmer months many library programs were held there. The book club met there on nicer days from April often right through September, the summer reading program in the children's department sometimes held outdoor events, and the annual barbeque fundraiser was put on there. It was paved with lovely slate grey squares and surrounded by gardens on three sides. There were benches and bike racks and it was generally just a nice place to spend time.

There was also a massive birdfeeder in one corner that was maintained by the library. Specifically, maintained by the maintenance department. The only employee thereof was sitting on the bench nearest the birdfeeder, absolutely stock still, with a cat on his lap and several birds perched on his shoulders and in his hair. Lazurite didn't have much hair, just a shock of red in the front, the rest he kept bald. Lapis thought it would look odd on most other people, but Lazurite made it work. Lazurite could make a lot of things work by sheer virtue of being taller than everyone else Lapis knew and built to match, with biceps the size of Lapis's head and thighs that could probably break him in two. Despite his hulking frame, Lazurite was the kindest soul Lapis had ever met: a lover of nature and animals (especially birds), he was the one who had suggested the birdfeeder in the first place and volunteered to keep it filled year-round.

Unfortunately, his gentle nature often meant he was beset upon by various animals whenever he was around them. Like right now, when he was petting a stray cat instead of working.

The birds sitting on Lazurite and eating at the feeder flew off as Lapis approached, but the cat stayed. It looked very comfortable, like it had been there for a while. At least twenty minutes by Lapis's guess, probably more.

"You're late, big guy," he said by way of greeting.

Lazurite looked from him to the cat on his lap. "There is a cat," he explained. Lazurite had a flat voice. Unlike Lazuli, who only said things flatly if she was being sarcastic, Lazurite's voice was flat all the time, leading people to think he was rude or uncaring. Lapis knew that wasn't the case, but his unexpressiveness coupled with his blunt tendencies made it difficult for Lazurite to get through to people. "It has been here for some time. I cannot move without disturbing it."

Lapis plopped down on the bench beside Lazurite, half hoping the movement would scare the cat away. It didn't. "Look, I get it, you don't want to move the cat. But Bulma's looking for you. You're supposed to be working on the air conditioner."

There was a short silence. "But there is a cat," Lazurite repeated.

"Okay, big guy," Lapis said, reaching for the cat, "if you won't move the cat I will."

An enormous hand swatted his. "No."

"Lazurite." Lapis was sounding dangerously like how Bulma had sounded on the phone earlier, but he didn't care.

Lazurite looked him steadily in the eyes. Lapis folded his arms and refused to back down. Lazurite had never won one of their staredowns and he wasn't about to start.

Finally Lazurite sighed and looked back down at the cat. "I am sorry," he murmured before gently nudging it so it would jump down. It did, rubbing against Lazurite's legs before wandering off. The two men watched it go silently.

"Dude," Lapis said, "why don't you have a job working with animals? You love them so much. More than humans, even."

"True," Lazurite said, standing up. "When I was young I wanted to be a veterinarian."

"So why did you go into maintenance instead?"

Lazurite shrugged. "I am good with my hands." He started to walk back towards the library.

"Yeah, but you're _great_ with animals." Lapis stood and followed him, glad that at least he'd gotten him to head back to work. He didn't envy him the conversation he was probably about to have with Bulma, though. _And Cell,_ he thought with a shudder. _Yikes._ "So why go for something you're only _good_ at and sort of like instead of something you'd be _great_ at and love?"

Lazurite stopped walking and looked down at Lapis. It had taken Lapis years, but he was able to easily distinguish between Lazurite's moods by studying very subtle changes in his face and body language. Lazurite had hitched one shoulder slightly higher than the other, set his jaw, and clenched one fist just a little tighter. He was also digging one thumbnail into the side of his finger. This was not a conversation Lazurite wanted to have, but he spoke up before Lapis could try to drop the subject.

"Veterinarians help animals when they are hurt." Lazurite spoke slowly, even slower than usual, clearly choosing his words carefully. Lapis could practically see the gears turning in his head. "Sometimes, the best way to help an animal is to..." He paused, eyes flicking away and then back to Lapis's as he tried to find the words to state his case properly. "Is to help them die," he finally stated. "I cannot do that. So I cannot be a veterinarian."

Lapis felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "Oh" was all he could say.

Lazurite turned away and started walking again. "So instead I decided to fix things. And feed hungry animals." He suddenly noticed Lapis wasn't with him and turned back to him. "Lapis?"

Lapis scratched his arm and kept his gaze away from Lazurite's. "Sorry, big guy. Didn't mean to bring up something painful like that."

"I do not understand."

"Well, I mean." He gestured vaguely. "Animal death, y'know. I know how you feel about that stuff."

"Lapis." One of Lazurite's enormous hands landed on Lapis's shoulder. "I am not going to get upset by talking to you. No matter the subject." He patted Lapis's shoulder. "We are friends."

Well, friends could royally piss each other off, Lapis knew, but he accepted Lazurite's gesture for what it was. "Whatever you say, big guy. Now go on, shoo. Bulma's gonna bite your head off if you're any later than you already are."

Lazurite nodded and started to head back towards the library, making sure Lapis was with him this time before he went. "Are we still going on our nature hike this weekend?"

Lapis flashed him a grin, glad the awkward, sad part of the conversation was over and seemingly forgotten. "You bet your ass."


	13. Take Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is fed up with Yamcha and Tien beating around the bush, including them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny because baseball

"Tien, do you like baseball?"

The question came out of left field and Tien shot a confused frown at Yamcha. "I guess? Why?"

Yamcha grinned and casually tucked some hair out of his face. "There's a big game on Saturday night--the Taitans vs. the Lyons for the championship. I'm having a bunch of guys over to watch."

"Anyone I know?" Tien asked, pouring himself a coffee. He'd been invited to get-togethers outside of work before, but if he was only going to know the person who invited him, he didn't go. He had once, but he'd ended up just awkwardly following Yamcha around the entire time and arguing about martial arts with some friend of Yamcha's.

"So far only Krillin and Goku are coming. You remember my friend Goku, right? He's the one who brings his kid in here all the time."

Tien thought. Goku was the one he'd had the martial arts argument with. "Is he the one with even weirder hair than Vegeta's?"

Yamcha laughed aloud and Tien's heart did a weird little fluttery dance. It wasn't fair, he decided, that Yamcha had to be not only impossibly handsome _and_ incredibly sweet, but he also had to have a cute laugh. Not fair at all. "That's the one!" Yamcha said. "I invited the twins from IT and Lazurite, but Lapis and Lazurite are going on some nature bird hike thing and Lazuli said she'd rather eat glass." Tien snorted. That sounded like her, even if her boyfriend was going. "So far it's just the three of us," Yamcha continued. "Five, if you and Chiaotzu come. The invitation's open to him, too."

Tien picked up the coffees he'd poured for himself and Chiaotzu. "I'll probably be there," he said. "Don't know about Chiaotzu; baseball isn't really his thing."

"Tell him I'm making guacamole," Yamcha said. "I make _really_ nice guacamole."

"I'll tell him," Tien said, walking out of the staff room.

As soon as he was out of Yamcha's line of sight, he heaved a sigh of relief. He had to constantly be on guard around Yamcha. Every time it was just the two of them alone together he had to stop himself from blurting out whatever stupid thoughts were on his mind, usually embarrassing ones like "you have amazing hair" or "I want to practise martial arts with you _so badly_ " or (most embarrassingly) "I think I fell in love with you a while ago do you want to go for coffee sometime maybe?"

And it wouldn't be so bad if he thought he had a chance, but he was pretty sure Yamcha didn't feel the same way. Yamcha had been openly bi for a few years now, but Tien didn't want to assume that he _was_ interested just because he _could_ be interested. He'd had that conversation a few times with people himself and he didn't want to subject Yamcha to it.

He walked back downstairs and forced himself to breathe deeply. This was a silly crush and he'd get over it. Even if it took another five years.

~~~

"Are you still here?"

Yamcha looked up from his phone. Bulma had come into the staff room with an empty coffee mug. "You're not drinking coffee out of that thing, right?" Yamcha asked. "That's probably not good for the baby."

"Thanks, mom." Bulma absently rubbed her ever-expanding belly as she went to the fridge. "Of course not; I'm only putting straight vodka in it." She smirked at him over her shoulder when he made a strangled noise. "How dumb do you think I am, Yamcha? I'm drinking milk. _Milk_. It just feels weird to use anything other than this thing at work." She held up the mug, displaying the words "Paperwork is my nemesis" on the side. Yamcha remembered that mug; it had been a Christmas present from the staff several years ago, back when they were still going out.

"Just checking." Yamcha sat back in his seat and checked his phone. He still had a few minutes before he had to be back at the desk. He hoped Pilaf wasn't causing too many problems. Yamcha hated leaving him in charge, but after Yamcha he was the most senior staff member at Information Services and he didn't have any other options.

"So, while you're here." Bulma sat down across from him gingerly, movements stiff and awkward thanks to the baby. "We've gotta talk about you and Tien."

Yamcha flushed. "What? What about us? Not that there is an us," he added hastily. "We're not going out or anything--"

"Oh my God, would you relax, you nerd?" She took a sip of her milk and peered over the rim of her mug at him. "I've seen the way you look at him. The way you've been looking at him for years. _Years_ , Yamcha. That's not healthy and I'm sick of it."

Well, the cat was out of the bag, he supposed. He sighed and put his phone away. "It's driving me crazy, Bulma. I don't know what to do. I don't think he even _likes_ guys."

"Are you serious? Oh God you're serious right now."

Yamcha threw his hands in the air. "It's not like he's given me anything to work with here! For all I know he's straight! Hell, with my luck he's probably aromantic! As far as I can tell he's never even been interested in anyone! I don't know!"

"Yamcha," Bulma said slowly, "Tien is _super_ into you. Like, 'probably wouldn't even go out with the sexiest man alive if he could get a date with you instead' levels of into you."

"First, ouch, how dare you imply that _I'm_ not the sexiest man alive." She snorted. "Second, what makes you so sure? Half the time it seems like he's avoiding me, and the other half he's so awkward around me." He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I kinda wish we'd just go back to the way things were when he first got hired."

Bulma frowned. "You guys _hated_ each other when he first got hired. Remember how he 'accidentally' knocked that ladder over and you broke your leg?"

"Yeah, but at least I knew where we stood."

She slapped his arm. "Don't be so melodramatic; it doesn't suit you. Look, you're having that big baseball thing this weekend, right? Ask him out then."

He squawked. "With all the guys there? No way."

"Then ask him out for coffee the next morning or something, I don't care, just do it soon already!"

Yamcha stood. "I'm going back to work."

"Ask Tien out, you nerd!" she called as he shut the door behind him.

~~~

Tien fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as he waited for Yamcha to answer the buzzer. He'd forgotten to use fabric softener when he did laundry this week and now all his clothes felt scratchy. "Hey," Yamcha's voice said over the intercom.

"It's Tien," Tien said.

"Come on up! Careful, the door's kinda sticky." There was a click as the door unlocked itself and Tien had to give it a solid tug to get it to open. Yamcha's apartment was in an alright neighborhood, but the building itself was clearly not well maintained. There was water damage on the baseboards and the walls were yellowing. The hallways smelled like cigarette smoke and fish.

The two-bedroom apartment he and Chiaotzu shared may have had a high rent, but at least the building was clean.

Yamcha opened the door as soon as Tien knocked, and Tien's heart fluttered wondered if he'd been waiting on the other side of it for him. "Hi! Come on--" He cut himself off as a small blue blur went speeding by him. "Shit! Sorry, make yourself at home, I have to get my cat!" Yamcha took off down the hallway and Tien stood in the doorway, blinking. He stepped inside and took off his shoes, taking the time to look around Yamcha's apartment in the process.

It was small, but clearly better taken care of than the building at large. The walls were clean and white, with photos of friends framed and hung randomly around. It was tidy for the most part, aside from the kitchen, which looked well-used. From the looks of things, he'd been cooking when Tien showed up--there was a pot on the stove and at least three bowls on the tiny counter. All the furniture looked secondhand and none of it matched, but somehow that added a cozy feeling to the place. When all was said and done, it was a pretty nice apartment, despite Tien's misgivings about the building itself.

"Sorry about that," Yamcha said from behind him, and Tien jumped out of his skin. "Puar likes to explore." He kicked the door shut behind him and released the cat in his arms onto the floor, where she immediately started rubbing against his ankles. "Yeah, yeah, you suck-up. Don't make me lock you in the bathroom when Krillin and Goku get here. She thinks she's an outdoor cat," he explained to Tien. "And I'd love to let her outside more often, but, well, you know the city."

Tien was staring at her. "She's blue."

"Right, I forgot you've never seen her before." Yamcha headed into the kitchen to stir the pot on the stove and only then did Tien notice that he had his hair up in a messy ponytail and it was _really attractive_. "No idea why she's blue; she was blue when I got her and she's blue now."

"Oh," Tien said when he got his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth. What had they been talking about? He'd been distracted by the back of Yamcha's neck. He mentally slapped himself across the face. It wasn't like he'd never seen Yamcha's neck before--he'd had his hair short before! But seeing him with his hair up, bustling around the kitchen, and now he was _putting on an apron_ it was too domestic and adorable and Tien had to say something before he did something embarrassing. "I brought chips," he blurted, shoving the grocery store bag in his hand forward for emphasis.

Except now Yamcha turned to him, beaming, and Tien wasn't sure he could move ever again. "Great! Can you just put those on the coffee table?"

"Uh," said Tien.

Mercifully, the buzzer went off and Yamcha hurried off to answer it. Tien scurried into the small living room while he did so, dropping the bag on the table. When he looked down, to his surprise, Puar had followed him and was sitting a few feet away, staring at him. "Hi, kitty," he said gently, kneeling down and holding a hand out for her to sniff. "Puar, right? C'mere, Puar." She tilted her head and he got the distinct feeling he was being judged. After a moment (that he refused to admit he sweated over) she moved forward to rub her head against his hand. "Oh, you're very sweet," he murmured, scratching her behind her ears.

"That's just what she wants you to think," Yamcha said, popping into the room with an empty bowl. "You should see her trying that sweet act when she wants to be fed at three in the morning." Puar meowed. "Yeah, you know exactly what I'm talking about," Yamcha said, opening the bag of chips Yamcha had brought and dumping them into the bowl. "Krillin and Goku arrived together; they'll be up in a second."

Tien straightened and looked around. "Need me to do anything?"

Yamcha grabbed the remote and turned on the television. "Nope, just hang out and watch the game. I'm mostly done with the food."

"WE HAVE ALCOHOL!" Krillin declared, barging right into the apartment with Goku in tow.

Puar was off like a shot, Yamcha not quite fast enough to catch her before she zipped out the door again. "Puar, come back here!"

~~~

"So the guys with the yellow shirts are the good guys, right?"

"Technically, there aren't any 'good guys' or 'bad guys' in baseball," Krillin started.

"Yes," Yamcha said. "The Taitans are the team we want to win, therefore, like Tien says, they're the good guys."

"Just for that, I'm rooting for the Lyons."

Yamcha gasped in mock despair. "Krillin! After all these years! How _could_ you?"

"It's only fair after you told Goku to root for the Shields during hockey season last year!"

Goku wandered in from the bathroom and flopped back into his seat on the couch between Yamcha and Krillin, effectively ending the argument. Tien was on the floor; Yamcha had offered him his spot on the couch but he'd declined. "So Krillin," Goku said, in the faux-innocent way he had of saying things, "when do Chi-Chi and I get to meet your girlfriend?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to Krillin, the first inning of the ball game already forgotten in favour of watching their bald friend squirm. "Uh, well, we've only been going out for a couple of months--"

"But everyone's met her except for me," Goku whined. "Even Chi-Chi's seen her at the cafe before!"

"What do you want me to do, tell her I'm bringing her to meet my family and then show up at your place?!"

"Well, yeah."

Yamcha watched Krillin sputter and Goku be completely serious and shook his head at Tien. Goku and Krillin had known each other for longer than anyone else, and they'd always had this sort of dynamic. Tien, bless him, was trying to pay attention to the game. Yamcha leaned his chin on his hand and tried to watch the screen as well, but his eyes kept wandering back to Tien.

Tien really was handsome. He'd always been handsome, but he was even more so now that they were both a little older and he'd filled out some more. Thinking back on it, part of the reason he'd hated Tien so much when they first met was because he'd been vehemently denying his bisexuality and being attracted to Tien, even superficially as he was at the time, hadn't been helping. That and he'd been a grade-A asshole. Snide comments, outright insults, and constant bickering had been pretty common between them in those days.

Except then Yamcha broke his leg.

Technically, it had been Tien's fault for "nudging" the ladder Yamcha was on, and apparently he'd actually felt awful about it later. He visited Yamcha in the hospital more than anyone else, even Bulma, who he'd been dating at the time. He offered to help pay for Yamcha's treatment if he couldn't afford it (he wished he'd taken him up on it when he saw the medical bill). After Yamcha was back at work, he followed him around for weeks afterward to make sure he was okay. And through all of that, Yamcha got to see what a great guy Tien could be, and the realization that he thought Tien was attractive had been about as subtle as a bag of nickles to the face.

He hadn't said anything about it, of course, since he was still dating Bulma and he was pretty sure Tien was only being nice to him because he felt bad. But once he and Bulma broke up for good and he'd had the time to really pick through his feelings, he came out as bi and hoped Tien would take it as a sign to ask him out.

He didn't.

So, three years later, here they were watching a baseball game in Yamcha's apartment with Krillin and Goku arguing in the background, and this was fine, really it was. But sometimes when he was with Tien there was a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that they could be holding hands or making out or...other things right now if Yamcha would just _stop being a coward and say something already_.

"Yamcha? Are you okay?"

With a start, Yamcha realized he'd been staring at Tien for a solid five minutes. The man in question was peering up at him in concern. "Fine!" he said, a little too loudly, downing the rest of his first beer. "Just fine," he repeated. "I'm just gonna...I'll go get more guacamole." He grabbed the empty bowl and tried not to rush back to the kitchen. He was getting more and more obvious and oh he had it _bad_.

There was hushed conversation from the other room that he couldn't quite make out over the noise from the TV. Probably just Goku ribbing Krillin about Lazuli again. Those two made a cute couple, really. Sometimes Yamcha would walk into the staff room and find Krillin snuggled into Lazuli's side on the couch. Krillin would always get embarrassed, but Lazuli would just look Yamcha dead in the eyes as though daring him to comment. He never did, mostly because he valued his life.

"Uh."

Yamcha yelped and stumbled backwards right into Tien's chest. Why was he _right behind him_ and trying to get his attention? With a shaky smile, he turned to look up at him. "You scared me," he said. Tien had him pretty well trapped between him and the counter and their proximity wasn't helping the thoughts he'd just been having go away. "Couldn't wait for more guacamole?" he tried. "I was just about to bring it out--"

"Yamcha." Tien had one hand on either side of Yamcha, leaning on the counter and pressing Yamcha back against it. Tien swallowed. "Will you go out with me?"

Yamcha's heart sank. So that's what the whispering from the other room was about. Krillin had put him up to this, the bald bastard. He was going to kill him. "Not cool, Tien," he muttered, lightly pushing at him to get him away. "You don't toy with a guy's feelings like that. Now--"

There was a hand on his chin, forcing him to look up at Tien. "Seriously, Yamcha," he sounded desperate, "will you go out with me? Please?"

His eyes flicked across Tien's face, looking for any sign that he was just playing with him. He found none. "Holy shit," he murmured, "yeah. All you had to do was ask."

If someone asked him later who first started kissing who, he wouldn't have an answer for them. All he knew was when Krillin shrieked on finding them making out in the kitchen, he couldn't bring himself to give a fuck.


	14. Book Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senior women love nothing more than sticking their noses in other people's business, especially Yamcha's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I do not have: the patience to wait more than five minutes after I have finished writing a chapter before posting it.  
> Things I do have: extensive experience dealing with little old ladies. I swear to God all of them are like this.
> 
> The book discussed in this chapter is _Deafening_ by Frances Itani.
> 
> Thank you to everyone on tumblr who suggested names!

"While I see your point, Mildred, I think Itani was more trying to prove that--"

There was a knock at the board room door, interrupting Helen's rebuttal. All eyes were on the unmistakable figure of Tien Shinhan from circulation through the window next to the door. Yamcha stood up. "Just a second," he said. "That's probably for me. Hold that thought, Helen; I'll be right back."

When the door shut behind him, Sandra clucked her tongue. "Do you think Yamcha's asked him out yet?"

Ethel shook her head. "That boy wouldn't know how to ask someone out if you held up cue cards for him."

"Oh, I don't know," Martha said. They watched the two men through the glass. Yamcha gently laid a hand on Tien's arm and some of the women sighed. "That's a pretty intimate gesture to me. I think they're an item."

"No, no, Martha," Helen said, still annoyed at being interrupted. "He's _trying_ to show he's interested, but Tien's not taking the hint. The both of them are about as sharp as a tennis ball."

"Now, that's not very nice," said Patience.

"You can't argue with it, though," Helen shot back. "They'll never get together; they're too far up their own--"

"Helen," Catherine said sharply. Helen flushed and folded her arms.

"I was talking to the young man from the front desk," Judith said. "You know, the short one with the big eyes? And _he_ said that Tien had been 'distracted' lately, but he wouldn't say what about." She nodded to the conversation going on on the other side of the door. "I think it was asking our Yamcha out."

Gladys sniffed derisively. "Even if it _was_ about that, we don't know if he ever actually _did_ it, now do we?"

"There's no need to be rude, Gladys," Patience said. "Although if one of them is going to ask the other one out at all, I hope it's soon. Our Yamcha needs someone like that in his life." The other women all nodded and expressed affirmations--there were few things the whole group could agree on, but that was one of them.

"Oh, he's looking in here," said Eliza. Sure enough, Tien was looking just over Yamcha's shoulder and had seen that they were all watching them.

Catherine's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, dear. I hope he doesn't think we were spying on them."

"We pretty much were, though," Ethel admitted.

Through the glass, they saw Tien slide a finger under Yamcha's chin, tilt his head up, and kiss him. The room just about exploded. Tien smirked at them through the glass before walking off, Yamcha's muffled shouting following him. He turned back to the room, red-faced, and saw the entire Monday Night Book Club watching him. Visibly bracing himself, he opened the door.

"Sorry about--" he started, but he was immediately interrupted by cheers and clapping and congratulations.

~~~

"What do you mean you need another book club meeting this month?" Pilaf whined. "Do you know how much work that leaves me? I have to book the board room for an extra night, and make up signs, and--"

"Look, if you want to try and get a bunch of sixty-somethings to talk about _Deafening_ instead of your love life for forty minutes," Yamcha snapped, "be my guest."


	15. Staff Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staff meetings are usually boring as hell. Unless your HR guy is a bitch in a camo suit jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CELL IS A CICADA BITCH.

It was ten after one. Bulma drummed her fingers on the board room table, then turned to Jaco. "Jaco, call down to Technical Services and tell Vegeta that if he's not in the board room in the next thirty seconds he's sleeping on the couch for the next week."

"That hardly seems like ethical workplace protocol," Jaco said.

"And?"

Jaco shrugged and went to make the call.

Bulma turned back to the rest of the people at the table. It was time for the monthly department head meeting, and she hoped it would go smoother than the last several. (If she was being honest with herself, that was unlikely. But if there was one thing Bulma rarely was, it was honest with herself.) Vegeta was, as usual, the last to show up. To her left was Cell, his usual ugly suit and uglier smirk in place, to her right the chair that Jaco had just left. Around the table were Krillin, Yamcha, Piccolo, Lazurite, Tien, and Lazuli. Lazuli sat at the complete opposite end of the table despite there being plenty of seats closer, and Bulma noticed she was as far away from Cell as she could possibly get. She didn't blame her--if she could've avoided sitting next to Cell, she would've. She regretted hiring him; it'd seemed like a good idea at the time but now he was just freaking everyone out and generally doing his job in the creepiest way possible. Thank God Agnes would be back in a few weeks.

"So I guess we'll get started without Vegeta," she said. "Again." She glanced down at her copy of the meeting agenda. "First up, we're getting a couple college kids next week. Piccolo, Krillin, Jaco, Cell and I have already met them, and they'll be in Children's Services and Reader's Advisory all summer."

"Why doesn't Info Serv ever get summer students?" Yamcha complained.

"Because Info Serv is boring," Krillin teased. "Beside, you guys just tell people where books are all day."

"No, you're thinking of Reader's Advisory."

"Well--"

"If we're all done being six-year-olds," Bulma interrupted, "they start training on Monday. We've got Selri in Children's and Traw in Reader's Advisory. Jaco'll be bringing them around to meet everyone on their first day."

As though summoned by the speaking of his name, Jaco appeared and flopped into his chair. "Vegeta's on his way."

"Sure he is."

"Can we get more students next year?" Tien asked. "Circulation can get busy, and I'm sure other departments would benefit from an extra pair of hands as well."

Bulma shrugged. "Talk to the government--they're the ones in charge of the grants that let us have any students in the first place." She checked the first item off her list and glanced at the next one. "Moving on, union news. Krillin?"

"Right." Krillin stood up. It only slightly changed his height. "There's a CUPE meeting in a couple of weeks, Saturday the 8th at noon. I know some people will be working then, so anyone who's working that wants to go needs to let either me, Chiaotzu, or Bulma know by that Monday, the..." He trailed off, clearly working the dates backward. "Monday the 3rd," he said. "Otherwise they're out of luck."

"I thought there was a union meeting last week," Lazurite said. "I remember because I was unable to go. It was during my scheduled volunteer shift at the Helping Paws Animal Shelter."

"There was," Krillin said, nodding. "But there's another one." He spread his hands and waved them in the least enthusiastic jazz hands Bulma had ever seen. "Guess whose contracts are up for renewal?"

Everyone groaned. Contract renewal time was never fun for anyone.

"Anyway, because of that there'll be a lot of union meetings coming up. If you have any questions, ask me or Chiaotzu." He nodded at Bulma and sat down again. She noticed his hand slip under the table to where Lazuli's hand was waiting, and watched them both go pink in the cheeks. Bulma shook her head. Honestly, those two were almost more ridiculous than Tien and Yamcha.

"Right, so next on the list--"

The door opened and Vegeta sauntered in, kicking it shut behind him. "Vegeta, we've talked about this," Bulma sighed. "Kicking the doors closed at home is one thing, but we're at work now, jackass."

Vegeta shrugged, hands in his pockets, and strolled to an empty seat, dropping into it.

"You are so sleeping on the couch," she informed him, turning back to her agenda. "Fine, so next on the list is--"

"What, you're just going to let that slide?"

Bulma closed her eyes, counted to ten in her head, and looked at Cell. "No. He's sleeping on the couch. Now the next item--"

"But he needs to be punished _in a workplace context_ for misbehaving _in a workplace context_ ," Cell interrupted again. "Otherwise he's just going to do it again."

She briefly wondered how much trouble she'd get in for kicking her HR head in the shins. Too much, she figured, so she shook her head instead. "You clearly don't know Vegeta very well."

"It's true," Vegeta piped up. He was resting his chin on his arms, which were folded on the table. "Dole out whatever punishments you like, I'm not going to change."

Before Bulma could tell him not to give Cell any ideas, the man beside her stood. His eyes narrowed to slits and that creepy smile returned. "Sensitivity training. My office. Immediately after this meeting."

Vegeta met his stare unflinchingly. "Eat me."

"How about everyone calms down and oh my God now you're going around the other side of the table that's fine this is fine." Bulma scooted around to get between her husband and the advancing Cell. "Back to your seat, Cell."

"Woman," and Vegeta was clearly pissed if he wasn't bothering to use her name (they'd been over that several times), "this is between me and him."

She turned to glare at him. "Sit your ass back down. Cell, go back to your seat." She folded her arms and refused to budge.

"He needs to learn respect," Cell said.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Please. Like I said, you clearly don't know Vegeta very well. He respects a lot of things. Himself, first and foremost. Me, most of the time. A good fight. But not authority, and definitely not you. Your weird-ass scare tactics aren't going to work on him, and they're not going to work on me, either. I pay your salary, you camo suit bitch. Now sit down, both of you, before I _make_ you."

She couldn't physically overpower either of them under normal circumstances, and she definitely when she was almost seven months pregnant, but apparently scowling at them was enough to make Cell turn away and Vegeta sit down. The rest of the room was silent, everyone staring at her--Yamcha looked like he'd held his breath for the entire confrontation, inches away from lunging across the table to protect her if necessary. Bulma smiled. Yamcha did his best, but she didn't need him, not for this. This was her territory, and at the end of the day, she was the one in charge.

"So," she said, sitting back in her chair, "next on the agenda..."

~~~

All in all, the meeting hadn't gone terribly. Sure, Bulma could've done without the big stink Cell kicked up, along with the second one he started on when he realized Piccolo had done nothing but play Candy Crush on his phone the whole meeting, but hopefully she wouldn't have to deal with many more of those. Agnes would be coming back in a few weeks and then they'd be rid of Cell forever.

Her phone rang and she sighed as she answered it. "What is it, Jaco?"

"Agnes is on the phone. She needs to talk to you--and I don't think you're going to like her news."

Bulma put her head on her desk and groaned. The day just kept getting better and better.


	16. Junior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cell is a douchebag. His nephews are no better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned lately I really really don't like Cell  
> Also my brother is to blame for the one really awful joke/pun trust me you'll know what I'm talking about

Mai propped her chin on her hand and frowned at her computer, drumming the fingers of her other hand on her desk. This was not her idea of a good day at work. First there had been a staff meeting for the department heads, so she'd had to work the desk by herself (never fun, especially right before the After School Readers program started for the day). Then the staff meeting had gone on longer than expected, so she had to start ASR by herself. _Then_ Piccolo had told her to look for activities about plants (really? Plants? Why plants? Plants were _boring_ ) and all the ones she could find online were about growing beans in waterbottles and _this was why plants were boring_. Honestly anything was more interesting than plants. Slugs were more interesting than plants. Cellular biology was more interesting than plants. The subtle nuances of watching paint dry was more interesting than plants.

A job was a job, but sometimes Mai really hated hers.

"Miss Kuroha?"

She squeaked and snapped her head up to see Cell from HR standing in front of the desk. He had that vaguely amused yet very disconcerting little half smile of his on his lips, and his eyes were doing that weird _thing_ that they did, where they looked at you like he was a predator sizing up potential prey. Mai swallowed and Piccolo's words echoed in her mind: "Do me a favour, Mai, and avoid Cell. He's kind of...bizarre." She'd followed his advice for the most part--not difficult, since she was pretty much a model employee, even if Krillin always seemed to win Employee of the Month--but she'd seen Cell around enough to know that he really creeped her out. "D-did you need something?" she asked, cursing herself internally for her habit of stammering when she got nervous.

"I did indeed." Cell leaned one elbow on the desk, the most casual creep in the world. "I was wondering if your After School Readers program had any...openings."

Mai immediately relaxed a little. So he wasn't here because of something she'd done (not that she could think of any reason for the head of HR to come looking for her, unless you counted the incident in the staff room with Pilaf and Shu, which she didn't). That was good. "Let me check," she said, bringing the list up on the computer. She knew they had openings; they'd just had a family with four children move away, but it sounded good. "Yes, as a matter of fact we have five spots open right now." She looked up at him. "I didn't know you had children."

Cell chuckled, and the sound sent chills down her spine. "I don't. But I'm babysitting my oldest brother's boys for a few days while he's out of town, and they usually go straight home after school. My work schedule doesn't allow for that, so I decided to see if your program was an option before looking elsewhere."

"We're flattered that you think so highly of us" was her automatic response. "How many children?"

"Three. Triplets. Pride of his life."

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. "And their names...?"

He waved vaguely. "Just Junior for all three is fine."

"A-all three?"

"That's what I said. Don't ask me. My brother is a bizarre man."

She bit back a sarcastic response and instead said "Is he."

"Met the girl of his dreams years ago, but they never married." Cell shrugged. "She just sort of got...absorbed into the family, if you know what I mean."

Mai winced. "No, not really."

"Well, no matter." Cell peeked over the desk at her screen. "Is that all you need?"

"Oh! How long will they be staying with the program?"

"Just a few days. Three at most."

She typed a few more words before nodding decisively at him. "Okay, you're all set! We'll see them on Monday, then?"

Cell smiled again, and she tried to smile back, she really did, but the most she could manage was a grimace. "Sorry to drop them on you right as you're training your college student. Have a nice day, Mai Kuroha." And off he went, probably to harass some other hapless employee. Like one of the twins from IT. He really seemed to like them for some reason.

Well, it wasn't Mai's problem. She was just glad she'd survived the ordeal without making Piccolo deal with him like she usually did.

~~~

When Goku walked into the children's program room to pick up his son, the first thing he saw was the mess. The second thing he saw was Piccolo slowly and methodically hitting his head against the wall. The third thing he saw was Gohan, sitting in a beanbag chair, Videl and Dende on either side of him, sobbing into his arms.

Leaping over an overturned pile of books that looked like they'd been used to make a fort at some point, Goku made his way to Gohan's side as quickly as he could. "What happened?" he asked, kneeling in front of him.

Gohan's response was launching himself at Goku to cry into his shoulder instead. Goku settled him in his lap and looked at his son's friends (or fiancees? Were they still doing that?) for help instead. Clearly Gohan was going to be inconsolable for a while. The best thing would be to get him home as soon as possible, get some food in him, maybe read a book with him or something. That always helped calm him down. But this was worse than Goku had seen Gohan in a long time. Usually he could at least still _talk_.

"There were new kids today," Videl said by way of explanation.

"And...that's why Gohan's bawlin' his eyes out," Goku said when she didn't elaborate.

"They were _awful_ ," Dende added, looking on the verge of tears himself. "They threw stuff and chased kids around and they wouldn't listen to Mr. Piccolo or Miss Mai or Miss Selri--"

"Who's Miss Selri?" Goku interrupted.

"College student."

Goku jumped; he hadn't realized Piccolo had joined them. "You alright there?" he asked, looking up at Piccolo. Sure, he wasn't exactly friends with the guy (their shared past sort of prevented that), but it wasn't like him to hit his head against a wall. Probably. Goku frowned. He didn't actually know Piccolo all that well, when he thought about it, which was weird because--

"Worry about your son before you worry about me." Turning on his heel dramatically, Piccolo stalked off to start cleaning up. Goku bit back a smile--he may not know Piccolo very well, but he knew him well enough to know he was only there to make sure Gohan was okay between his own mental breakdowns. He quietly hoped Piccolo would be alright. He looked pale and tired.

"So the new kids were really mean," Goku said, turning back to Videl and Dende. "And that's why Gohan's bawlin'?"

"They were picking on Gohan the most," Videl said. She folded her arms and scowled. Goku almost laughed--scowling kindergarteners always looked pouty. "There were three of them and I couldn't hold them all off. 'Specially when Miss Mai put me in timeout because I kicked one of them."

Goku really did laugh at that. "Well, you shouldn't kick people." Piccolo snorted from across the room, and Goku knew that he sounded like a hypocrite, being a man who taught people how to fight for a living, but with real martial arts came _discipline_ , which Piccolo _knew_ but refused to acknowledge that Kame School taught.

"I only kick people who deserve it!"

Gohan hiccupped, and Goku rubbed his upper back soothingly. "Okay, Gohan, it's okay. We're gonna go home now and see Mommy and eat dinner and have a bath. Does that sound good?" Gohan had stopped sobbing, at least, and he nodded into Goku's shoulder. "Alright." Shifting his grip on his son, Goku stood, Gohan still cradled in his arms. "Say goodbye to Videl and Dende."

Taking his face out of Goku's shoulder for the first time since he got there, Gohan looked down at his friends and waved. Dende waved back, and Videl stood up. "Tomorrow they won't get past me," she boasted. "Don't worry!"

Gohan giggled and Goku nodded at her. "No offense, but hopefully he won't need you tomorrow. Bye, kids." He turned to go and was faced with Piccolo standing directly behind him.

"I need to talk to you," Piccolo said bluntly. Goku glanced at Gohan, and Piccolo shrugged. "He can stay. Come with me for a minute." He led them out of the program room into the middle of the children's area, then turned back to Goku. "I hate to say this, but it might be best for Gohan to stay out of here for a couple of days."

"What?" Goku blinked. "Why?"

"The boys that caused all that chaos in there are here for two more days. I can't get rid of them--trust me, I looked it up, and our three-strikes-you're-out policy clearly states three _separate_ incidents are necessary to force children out of our programs. So they're coming back."

Goku looked down at Gohan, who was fidgeting with the bottom edge of his shirt. "You can't make them leave?"

Piccolo shook his head. "Short of them actively attacking or injuring a patron or staff member without it being an act of retaliation, no. And their uncle is the head of HR--if I'm going to have a case against them, it has to be _strong_ , because he knows every trick in the book."

"They need me."

Both adults looked at Gohan. The boy had grabbed the edge of his shirt and was worrying it between his thumb and forefinger. "What's that?" Goku asked.

"They need me," Gohan repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Videl and Dende. If I don't come back tomorrow they're gonna be all by themselves and Dende's gonna be stuck by himself when Videl's in timeout."

"Maybe Videl won't be in timeout tomorrow," Goku suggested, but he knew Videl well enough to know that probably wasn't an option.

"Daddy," Gohan said, rather condescendingly for a six-year-old, "Videl _always_ has a timeout."

"You think you can handle it?" Goku asked. "You can come to the dojo with me tomorrow instead, you know. Roshi won't mind. If you're really good he'll teach you a new kick and everything."

Gohan wrinkled his nose and Goku bit back a sigh. Gohan really, _really_ hated karate classes. "No. I gotta help Dende."

Piccolo shook his head. "Well, it's up to you two. If I don't see you tomorrow, Gohan, I'll know why."

"Well, who knows," Goku joked, "maybe we'll get lucky and one of them will bite someone in the ankle."

~~~

As it turned out, Goku wasn't far off.

Piccolo got kicked in the kneecap, not bitten in the ankle, but that was semantics, he thought as his knee throbbed. The three "juniors," as they were collectively referred, were lined up along one wall, with Gohan and Videl against the opposite wall. Both sides were glaring daggers at each other, and Dende clung to Piccolo's pant leg, alternating between worriedly eyeing the juniors and peeking at Gohan and Videl to make sure they were okay. It was difficult to stare people down and be intimidating with a kindergartener holding him by the leg, but Piccolo did his best.

Cell was in the middle of half-heartedly lecturing his nephews. Piccolo could tell that he was only scolding them because he had to, not because he thought they deserved it, even though he knew they were the cause of the problem, Piccolo had told him that already. Several times. To be fair, though, that was exactly what he expected Goku and Hercule to do to their respective children when they got there.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, because Mr. Satan himself came flying through the door at that exact moment. He skidded to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around in a frenzy before spotting Videl and making a beeline for her. "Honey, are you alright?!" He grabbed her by the arms to check her over. The bleeding from her scraped knee had stopped, and the most severe injury she had was rug burn on the palms of her hands, but he fussed over her anyway. "What happened?! All they said was that you got in a fight so I rushed over as soon as I could--"

Hercule was interrupted by the door slamming open and Goku running into the room. Like Hercule, he went straight for his child. He picked Gohan up, loudly asking if he was okay and cuddling him to his chest. Piccolo rolled his eyes. The boy was going to grow up softer than a fucking marshmallow if his parents kept coddling him like this.

And Cell was there, apparently done "lecturing" the boys, who apparently hadn't absorbed a word he said and were giggling to each other, eyeing the other three children with nothing but ill intent. Piccolo subtly moved so he was between them and Dende. "Well, Junior told me all about it."

Piccolo bit his tongue. "Did he." He had no idea which junior Cell was referring to, but they were identical triplets anyway--it was practically impossible to tell them apart.

"And _his_ story contradicts _your_ story."

Piccolo took a deep breath. "Does it."

"According to Junior, _Gohan_ started it."

Piccolo couldn't help it. He barked out a sharp laugh. "Oh, _Gohan_ started it, did he? I'd pay money to see Gohan start a fight!"

Goku had drifted over, still holding Gohan, who was glaring between Cell and his nephews, looking angrier than Piccolo had ever seen the boy. "What happened, exactly? Mai didn't give a lot of details on the phone."

"Long story short," Piccolo said, folding his arms, "Junior over there was holding a book over Gohan's head so he couldn't reach it. When I tried to get him to give Gohan the book, Junior number two--I know, it's weird, I know," he said to Goku's confused look. "They're all called Junior. Anyway Junior Two kicked me in the knee and Junior Three tackled Dende and that's when Gohan lost it and punched Junior One in the face."

Goku's face was the most priceless thing Piccolo had seen all day. He looked at Gohan, astonishment all over his features, and Gohan looked at the ground sheepishly. "You did what?"

"See, what _Junior_ said--" Cell started.

"Is total bull--baloney," Piccolo interrupted, catching himself at the last minute, "because I have thirty witnesses who will tell you that Junior started it. Anyway then there was a huge fight and Mai and Selri and I had to literally pull them all apart and send the other kids home early. So that happened." He glanced at Cell, who was fuming, because he knew Piccolo really _did_ have thirty witnesses to back him up--all under the age of ten, but still.

And he was completely and utterly _done_ dealing with Cell, he was tired of his creepy presence following everyone around like a shadow, of his condescending attitude, of his _ugly camo suit jacket_. So he turned to Cell and said "Your nephews are banned from the library until further notice. Don't even argue with me; I already called Bulma and she gave me the go-ahead. Get them out of here."

Cell's hand was on Piccolo's shoulder and he leaned forward to hiss in his ear. "You will pay for this." Then he was gone, the juniors trailing behind him like ducklings. Horrible, obnoxious, violent ducklings.

Hercule came over, holding Videl's hand. Gohan immediately reached down for her other hand. "Is Videl in trouble?" he asked. "Or can I just take her home?"

Piccolo shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, she and Gohan acted either in self-defense or in the defense of others. Just don't do it again." The words were empty; he completely expected Videl to do something similar the next time she was in.

But Hercule nodded and extracted Videl from her friends and led her out of the room, half-heartedly scolding her.

"You've changed a lot."

Piccolo scowled down at Goku. "Shut up."

"No, really." Goku grinned at him. "You're real good with kids, huh! I never would've pegged you for the type!"

"Shouldn't you be dealing with Gohan?" Piccolo snapped. He didn't want to deal with Goku's weird tendency to want to talk about stupid things at random times. "He _did_ still punch a kid today."

"Right, right." He turned and started to leave, Gohan waving to Dende over his shoulder. "Gohan, I'm so _proud_ of you!" Piccolo heard him say. "But don't do it again, okay?"


	17. Next of Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kami and Piccolo don’t get along. They never have. So Kami’s more than a little surprised when Piccolo shows up at his apartment demanding to know why he was just in the hospital–and, more specifically, why he didn’t tell Piccolo about it in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to do the chapter about reading therapy dogs first but then NOPE KAMI AND PICCOLO FEELINGS WERE MORE IMPORTANT APPARENTLY (does this surprise anyone because it shouldn't)

There was a constant, insistent, loud as all hell buzz from the alarm box next to the door. Kami sighed and slowly pulled himself from his seat. He knew exactly who it was if they were that insistent. Mr. Popo wasn't there, either, so he would get to face them alone.

Fantastic. He didn't need this today. Everything hurt and he was tired.

Sure enough, when he buzzed the visitor in, a few minutes later his nephew walked in, dressed in jeans, t-shirt, ball cap, and a scowl. Piccolo half-growled at him, scowl deepening when he met Kami's eyes. "You were in the hospital again."

"Well, it's good to see you too, Piccolo." Kami leaned on his cane and gazed calmly at him. "Everything's fine here, thanks for asking. Mr. Popo is out, but--"

"Cut the crap," Piccolo snapped. "You're supposed to _tell_ me when you go to the hospital."

"Why don't you come in?" Kami continued, as if Piccolo hadn't spoken. "I'll put on some tea." And he turned and headed back into the kitchen. He left Piccolo standing in the entryway of the tiny apartment. It was a fifty-fifty chance whether he'd take Kami up on his offer or abandon his annoyance altogether and storm out in a huff. He hoped he would stay--so rarely Piccolo actually seemed to care about anything going on in anyone else's life. It would be nice to actually talk with him.

Provided Piccolo was in the mood to do anything other than scowl and lecture.

"I don't want any of your damn tea." Piccolo had followed him into the kitchen, shoulders hunched and face pinched. Kami decided to count it as a win. "I _want_ to talk about why you were in the hospital."

"Really, Piccolo, it wasn't anything serious." Kami plugged in the kettle and started to get out the teapot. "There's a new tea shop that opened up downtown just last week. They have a lovely blend called--"

" _I don't care_."

"--Jasmine Sunshine. It's very nice. It blends traditional jasmine with a more fruity taste. I think you'll like it."

"Uncle Kami, would you _shut up_."

Kami turned to face Piccolo. Good God, he was actually serious about the hospital thing. He never thought he'd see the day when Piccolo would actually care about what Kami did.

"Mr. Popo called," Piccolo said. "It wasn't just a routine checkup, was it."

The only sound for several minutes was the tea kettle coming slowly to a boil. "No," Kami finally said. "It wasn't."

"You fell again, didn't you."

Another long pause. "Yes."

An appraising look from Piccolo. "At least it doesn't look like you broke anything this time."

The kettle whistled and Kami set about making tea. Even if Piccolo didn't have any, he wanted some. "While your concern is touching, I really am fine. It was just a minor tumble." He tapped his cane against the stool in the corner of the kitchen. "Tripped over this thing. Flat out face first into the ground. Thankfully Mr. Popo was around at the time." After the incident, Popo had tried to convince him to get one of those emergency buttons for seniors, but Kami had his pride. Call him foolish, and Popo did, but those were for _old_ people, and Kami was only sixty-eight. He could handle a little spill.

"That explains the bruising, then." Piccolo pointed at his own face, indicating the purple bruises Kami knew covered much of his face. "You thought you'd be able to hide that? They're kind of obvious."

"Well, most of my congregation is kind enough not to ask, and it's not as though you see me often enough to actually notice." The words came out harsher than intended and Kami winced. If he wanted Piccolo to recognise he had family more often, being rude to him wasn't going to help his case.

It was true, though. Piccolo actively avoided Kami, even though they were the only family they had left. (Honestly, that was probably _why_ Piccolo avoided him. He'd hated his family for a long time.) Generally, Kami only saw Piccolo if he sought him out, which didn't happen often. Both of them were fairly reclusive, with Piccolo tending to stick to his apartment and the gym if he wasn't working, and Kami had a hard time going anywhere these days. So he honestly had thought he wouldn't have to discuss his fall with Piccolo. It wasn't like he thought he'd see him before he healed.

Mr. Popo, however, apparently thought differently.

"We've been over this," Piccolo said, apparently ignoring Kami's crack at Piccolo's reclusiveness. Kami kept his back to him and pulled two teacups out of a cupboard. "I'm your next of kin. If something happens, you're supposed to let me know."

"Piccolo, it was nothing serious."

"Half your face is purple! What do you mean it was nothing serious?"

"It could have been much worse!" Angrily turning back to him, Kami clutched his cane and frowned at Piccolo. "And why should you care? The only reason you even know is because Mr. Popo decided to call you about it!"

"See, _that's_ what bothers me!" Kami ignored him and started pouring tea. "I had to hear it second hand. Not from you, not even from the hospital, but from Mr. Popo!" He accepted the teacup Kami offered him without thinking. It was quite a comical sight: this huge, bald, scowling man, delicately cradling a clay teacup in his hands. "Usually you _insist_ on letting me know what's going on in your life, whether or not I ask. What changed?" He looked down at the teacup, suddenly registering that he was holding it. He hurriedly set it on the counter and folded his arms.

"Drink your tea." Kami took a sip from his own cup. It was still a little hot, but otherwise lovely. "I didn't tell you because you always seem to get annoyed when I do. Have the rules of engagement changed without my knowledge?"

Piccolo shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "No, I just...maybe _I've_ changed. If something happens, you're supposed to let me know."

"Usually you don't want me to."

"Well now I do. Why is that so hard?"

Kami shrugged. "It's just so unlike you, is all. What brought this about?"

There was a long silence. Kami continued drinking his tea. Piccolo stared fixedly at the ground, looking like he wanted to say something but snapping his mouth shut every time he opened it. "I," he started, "I don't really know."

Kami blinked. He sounded more honest, more open, than Kami had heard him in a long time, and more than a little confused. Piccolo tapped a finger against his bicep and forged ahead. "I just...lately, I've been doing some thinking. About the people in my life, and my...about Dad."

The word struck Kami like a barb and he flinched away from it. It was a general unspoken rule that they didn't discuss Piccolo Sr. They just didn't. No one did. He edged over to the tiny kitchen table and sat down, taking a sip of tea.

To his surprise, Piccolo actually joined him, bringing his tea with him. He wrapped his hands around the cup and stared into it. Kami idly wondered if he was looking for something in it--perhaps himself. "The way I see it," Piccolo said, slowly, carefully, "nothing can justify what Dad did, or what he tried to make us into."

Kami thought of the other nephews he once had and said nothing.

"And I was talking with someone the other day--"

"You?" Kami said. "Talking? With who?"

He fully expected Piccolo to get annoyed and snap at him. He didn't expect Piccolo to blush and shrink in his seat a little. "No one."

Kami leaned forward, a glint in his eye. Piccolo hardly ever talked about people he knew, not even his coworkers. Occasionally he'd bring up the Son boy, but other than that he never mentioned friends (and could a kindergartener he saw at work count as a friend?). "Someone I know?"

"No." His response was short, snappish. "Just someone I see at work. Anyway--"

"Is it Nail?"

Piccolo's flush went all the way to the tips of his ears. "H-how...how do you know Nail?"

Kami waved airily. "His whole family goes to my church. I saw you two talking at the library in last month, remember? So it was Nail, then."

All the air seemed to come out of Piccolo's sails at once. "Yeah, it was Nail."

"And what was it that Nail said that made you want to talk to me again?"

"Nothing!" Piccolo drained his teacup in one go and slammed the cup back on the table. Kami winced. " _Fuck_ that was hot!"

"Focus, Piccolo," Kami chided. "What did Nail say?"

The young man squirmed. "Nothing. I--have you met his grandfather?"

Kami frowned at the non-sequitor. "No. What does this have to do with--"

"Of course not." Piccolo leaned back in his seat and looked away. "He's basically bedridden. If Nail's not with him he's got some med student friend of his-- _Karen_ \--with him." Kami raised an eyebrow at the contempt in Piccolo's voice for Karen, but decided to ask about that later. "And he--they don't know how long the old man has left--and--"

"And you started to get worried," Kami offered. Such a long outpouring of emotion was clearly taking its toll on Piccolo. He was starting to stammer around his words and couldn't maintain eye contact. "Piccolo, I'm not _that_ old."

"That's not it." Piccolo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at the ground. "I mean it is, but it's--you and Dad never got along. When I was growing up, Dad always told me how awful you were, and you were really annoying, so of course I believed him."

Kami snorted. "Thanks."

"You _were_ , though! Always asking how I was, getting me to tell you emotional stuff even if I didn't want to--you still do it! I wanted to be left _alone_ , and Dad convinced me that you were always going to be after me if I didn't cut ties with you. Except then he--" Piccolo faltered. "Then Goku caught him in the middle of a murder."

Kami's stomach twisted.

"And when _that_ whole shitstorm blew over, I'd lost my whole family and I needed someone to blame, you know? I was just a kid and I'd just found out my dad killed a lot of people and--and you and Son were the easiest targets. So I lashed out at you and--and that wasn't _okay_ , but it _happened_." He tapped his thumbs together and continued not making eye contact. "And Nail--he talks about his grandfather all the time--so does Dende, but--anyway, Nail said if he had an argument with his grandfather and then the fucker died, he'd regret not being able to make things right." Kami frowned at the language, but Piccolo steamrolled right along before he could say anything. "And yeah, it's not like I never heard that before, people have been telling me that for years, but with Nail it...it just hit home better, because I know he's coming from actual experience. Does that make sense?"

Kami thought about it for a minute. "I'm not sure. In a way, yes, I suppose it does." He smiled at Piccolo. "You were worried something happened before you had a chance to talk things out."

"Don't get me wrong," Piccolo said, "I still hate you. You're annoying and you keep trying to drag me to church and you don't know when to leave well enough alone. But," he added when Kami opened his mouth for a snappy retort, "you've never done anything that wasn't looking out for me. And you're the only family I've got left."

He waited, but from the looks of things Piccolo was done talking. "So is that why you're here today?" Kami asked gently. "As your own way of making things right?"

Piccolo nodded, still staring at the ground.

Kami stood, and only then did Piccolo's eyes focus on him. He limped into the kitchen, returning with the teapot. "Well," he said, topping up both of their cups, "I guess we'd better get started, then. We have nearly ten years to talk over, after all."

When Mr. Popo came back from running his errands, he found the two of them still at the table, still talking, a fragile relationship beginning to form.


	18. Paws Fur Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves Bella, the reading therapy dog who comes to the library once a month through the school year.
> 
> Maybe a little _too_ much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of notes for this one but PLEASE read all of them--they are important.
> 
> The books discussed in this chapter are _The Book of Negroes_ by Lawrence Hill, _Dear Sir, I Intend To Burn Your Book_ also by Lawrence Hill (which is really more of an essay, but it's been published in book format (I know because my library had a copy)), and _And Tango Makes Three_ by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson.
> 
> Selri is my brother's Xenoverse character (she's a Saiyan) and one of the few OCs in the fic.
> 
> Also, do not pet service dogs. Do not _ask_ to pet service dogs. You cannot pet the service dog. Therapy dogs are different. Reading therapy dogs, like Bella, are allowed to be pet since they are meant to sit/lie quietly next to children who read to them. This helps to strengthen the child’s confidence in their literacy skills, since a dog won’t react/correct them if they read something wrong. When I worked at the public library the staff all knew they were allowed to pet the reading dog but the patrons didn’t. **TL;DR DO NOT PET SERVICE DOGS BUT THERAPY DOGS ARE OKAY IF YOU ASK THEIR HANDLER FIRST.**

"Good afternoon."

Mai smiled up at the man in front of the Children and Youth Services desk. "Hello, Doug." She stood and looked down at the golden retriever next to him. "Hi, Bella!" Bella wagged her tail, but otherwise remained calm.

"Last session for the school year," said Doug. He adjusted his grip on Bella's leash. "Bella'll be sad not to see the kids here anymore."

"We'll be sad not to see Bella anymore." Mai came around the desk to give Bella a scratch behind the ears. "She's such a good girl!"

At that moment, Piccolo stuck his head out of the office. "Is that Doug?"

Doug gave a little wave. "Hello there, Piccolo. Good to see you again."

Piccolo smacked himself in the forehead and ran his hand down his face. "Dangit. I forgot today was Paws Fur Reading. Give me a minute; I'm in the middle of training the new college student. Mai, take them over to the program room for me, would you?" He disappeared back into the office before she could answer. His voice could be heard from the other side: "So Selri, the next thing you have to do is--no, that's the wrong program. How did you even get this open?"

Mai sighed and shook her head. Selri was a fine employee, but she had the worst luck with technology. She turned back to Doug. "Well, you heard the man."

Doug laughed. "It always takes an hour to get through the library with Bella! He has the right idea."

"True enough." She stood up. "Shall we get--never mind; it seems like we already have company."

Most of the patrons avoided Doug and Bella, seeing that she was wearing a service dog vest and thinking that meant they weren't allowed to interact with her. But Bella was a therapy dog, even-tempered and trained specifically to interact with children. Generally, patrons didn't know that. But the staff did, and already Lapis was casually sauntering by the desk, in an area he almost never went, because he knew it was reading dog day.

"Hi, Lapis." Mai crossed her arms. "I suppose you're here to see Bella?"

Lapis grinned at her, caught, but to his credit turned to Doug first. "May I?" His grin widened when Doug nodded. "Figured I'd check!" He knelt down to Bella's level and scratched her head. "Who's a good girl? You are! Yes you are!"

Mai looked around and quickly ushered Lapis away so she and Doug could get going, because where there was a Lapis--

"Excuse me."

\--A Lazurite wasn't far behind. The giant of a man always looked a little odd with how delicately he held himself around animals, but he gently patted Bella's head and murmured quietly to her. The few bits Mai caught were in a similar vein to Lapis's: "good dog, good girl, go do your job well."

"Okay," Mai said loudly, a little too loudly maybe, because a parent glared at her, "Doug I think it's time we got going, don't you?"

Reluctantly, Lazurite gave Bella one last pat and stood. Lapis had stood to the side and watched while Lazurite had his turn, and now he smiled at the redhead and they headed off towards IT together. Doug started off towards the children's program room, Bella and Mai on his heels.

They barely made it through half the children's department when they were stopped again, this time by Krillin. "Hey, Mai. Hi Doug." He held out a hand for Bella to sniff before scratching behind her collar. "Is Piccolo at the desk?"

"He should still be there, yes."

"Great." Krillin looked relieved, and Mai saw dark circles under his eyes. "I've got a patron that wants to ban a book again and since it's a children's book I figured he should know about it."

"Is it the same guy as last week?" Mai asked, exasperated. Every week, a middle-aged creep kept challenging books for increasingly ridiculous reasons. The week before last, he wanted to have _The Book of Negroes_ banned for racist content. Mai hadn't witnessed it, but apparently Krillin's patient explanation of why that was stupid (and also recommendation of _Dear Sir, I Intend to Burn Your Book_ by the same author, presumably to get the man to leave Krillin alone) was already legendary among staff for Krillin's sheer ability to deal with copious amounts of bullshit with a totally straight face.

"This time it's _And Tango Makes Three_." Krillin rolled his eyes and gave Bella another scratch. "Well, better get going. Bye, Bella!"

Mai grumbled at the lack of goodbye for either human, but continued through the stacks. Hopefully, that would be the end of it, and they wouldn't run into any more staff--

"Mai."

Oh good.

She propped her hands on her hips and frowned up at Raditz. "What? We're kind of busy. Places to be and all." If they were late to start again Piccolo would have her head. These constant interruptions weren't helping.

As expected, Raditz knelt to Bella's level and, after a quick visual confirmation from Doug, started rubbing her ears. "Can you tell your boss something for me?" he asked.

Mai cocked her hips to one side and folded her arms. "What now?"

Raditz stuck his tongue out at her. "Tell him to stop sending tiny pieces of paper to be laminated or I'm turning laminator duties over to Children's."

She scowled at him as he gave Bella one last pat and rose back to his full, massive height. "Tell him yourself." And she pushed past him to lead Doug and Bella onward once more.

Finally, _finally_ , they managed to clear the children's stacks and the program room was in sight. Mai glanced at the clock. Three minutes to spare. Dende Namek and his father, Moori, were waiting next to the door, Dende bouncing on the balls of his feet when Bella appeared, Moori smiling and chuckling at his son's antics. She hustled Doug across the last few feet and--

"Mai."

Oh that was _it_. "Listen," Mai snapped, turning on whoever it was that decided they were more important than their reading dog program being started on time, "we're _trying_ to run a program here--" She cut herself off and slapped a hand over her mouth when she was met with Piccolo's unamused face.

"It really took you this long to get here?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I finished getting Selri's Health and Safety training set up and talked to Krillin in the time it took you to get here."

Doug and Bella had left, Dende and Moori following them into the program room. Dende was chattering excitedly away at Bella in Portuguese, clutching the books he was going to read to her. Mai watched Piccolo watch them go. Piccolo was an odd person. For all he talked a big game, she could tell he wasn't really angry with her, or even that disappointed. His features softened a little before he apparently remembered he was supposed to be chastising her and cleared his throat. He looked sheepish. "Uh. You go on back to the desk. I need you to get those summer reading recommendation lists finalized by the end of the day. Also keep an eye on Selri--that HS training program is glitchier than a Bethesda game."

She squinted at him. "How do _you_ know Bethesda?"

To her surprise, he looked away and folded his arms defensively. "I have hobbies."

"No you don't."

"Go back to the desk, Mai."

Rolling her eyes, she relented. "I know your secret," she called over her shoulder. "You only insist on running the Paws Fur Reading program yourself so you have an excuse to pet the therapy dog."

He actually laughed at that. "Oh, Mai," he said, "that's not even a secret."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piccolo you don't have hobbies stop pretending to be cool
> 
> Also: westcitypubliclibrary.tumblr.com has some great bonus content, including worldbuilding, character building, art, bonus writing (by people who aren't me!), and community generated content. If you're interested please feel free to check it out! Thank you!


	19. Harassment Policy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lapis, Lazuli, and Lazurite need to have words with Bulma about Cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **PLEASE NOTE:** this chapter contains descriptions of (mild?) workplace harassment. If for whatever reason you can't read this chapter due to its content, please feel free to message me either here or on Tumblr (on agirlnameded, eddrawsandwrites, or westcitypubliclibrary) and I will give you a brief overview of the chapter. No matter how long it's been since it was published. I want you guys to be safe and comfortable.  <3
> 
> Also fucking unions, amirite

The knock at the door was gentler than Bulma was used to. She looked up from her financial report to see Lapis, Lazuli, and Lazurite standing in her doorway. Clearly, Lazurite was the one who'd knocked, since of the strange trio he was the quietest, the softest, which surprised a lot of people (Bulma included) due to his massive size. Lapis was fidgeting with the edge of his scarf and keeping an eye on the door over Bulma's shoulder--the one that led to Cell's office. Lazuli, on the other hand, had her arms folded and was staring at Bulma impassively.

They hadn't said anything to her about this visit before, but Bulma had a pretty good idea of why they were in her office.

"Come on in, guys; don't be shy." The twins were never shy, or at least they'd never acted shy in the time Bulma had known them, and Lazurite certainly wasn't. This quiet, awkward behaviour was completely unlike them.

Lapis tossed his head and sauntered in, plopping into one of the chairs in front of her desk with his usual flair. "Who said anything about being _shy_?" he said. "Cautious, that's all."

Lazuli snorted and followed, taking the chair to Lapis's right and crossing one knee over the other. "We've got to talk to you about something."

"I figured." Lazurite closed the door and sat on Lapis's left. "I think I know why you're here, but just in case I'm wrong, how about you tell me."

Lapis was still eyeing Cell's door. "He's not in his office, is he?" Lazuli asked. Her clear blue eyes hadn't left Bulma's once.

Bulma didn't need to ask to know who she was referring to. "Lunch break. Shouldn't be back for--" She checked the clock on her computer. "Probably another twenty minutes or so." She looked back to the trio in front of her. "So this _is_ about Cell."

"When the hell is he leaving?" Lapis demanded. "You said he was a temporary replacement until Agnes came back. It's been months! When's she coming back?"

She took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be pretty. "She's not."

Lapis paled, Lazuli dug her fingers into her arms, and Lazurite nodded. "I thought as much," he said.

"B-but," Lapis stammered, "she's--she's not--"

"Agnes is fine," Bulma assured them. "But the broken hip is taking too long to heal, and she was going to retire soon anyway. We fudged things around a little so she could retire early--don't tell the board. Because of that, though, we have to go through the whole hiring bullshit a lot sooner than anticipated, and Agnes can't sit in on the interviews."

Lazuli seemed to relax a little, loosening her grip and uncrossing her legs. "So you'll be hiring someone else in the position, then."

And here was where things were going to get sticky. "Not necessarily."

"Union hiring policy states that all positions be open to members of staff first and foremost," Lazurite said, as though reciting from the employee handbook. For all Bulma knew, he'd actually memorized the thing--it certainly seemed like something he'd do. "If a staff member with enough credentials and seniority applies for the position, they will receive it."

"Well, mostly." Bulma tapped a pen against her desk. "You need to interview for the position, of course, and if two candidates have equal credentials it'll most likely come down to a question of seniority. But Cell has the credentials, and no one else here does, and we _have_ to hire from within first before opening it up to the public. So if, when we get to the hiring process, Cell still wants this job..." She sighed. "Cell will probably get it."

"So we're stuck with him," Lapis reiterated.

"Yeah pretty much." Bulma's tapping increased. "And he's been here for longer than the training period, so I can't fire him without reason. And I personally don't have any." Others did. She knew that. Cell had been creeping people out since day one. She'd heard other staff complaining about him, but unless they came directly to her there wasn't a lot she could do--it would look pretty terrible if word got out that the CEO was actively trying to get one of her staff fired. And Cell had (wisely) never crossed that line with her, so she didn't have any personal experience.

Lazuli and Lapis, though...

The twins exchanged a look. "We might," Lazuli said.

Bulma nodded and put the pen down, one hand absently rubbing her swollen stomach instead. "I was afraid you'd say that. Are you okay? What did he do? Why didn't you come to me about it earlier?"

"We're fine, and we didn't come to you sooner because..." Lapis trailed off.

"They were afraid Cell would find out," Lazurite said. Lazuli nodded. "They were afraid that if he did he would become even worse."

"We're not _afraid_ of him," Lapis protested. "We're not afraid of anyone!" He glared at Lazurite when he raised an eyebrow. "We're just cautious, that's all, like I said. Cell has a lot of power and could make things really shitty for us. More than he already has."

"So what's he done, then?" Bulma asked. "If something's happened there are channels to go through, we can get you help, get Cell out of here--"

"Well, I mean," Lapis said, "nothing _yet_." He squirmed, looking more uncomfortable than Bulma had ever seen him. "I mean, nothing much."

"He follows us around sometimes," Lazuli said. Her voice was carefully neutral. "Sometimes he's trying not to be noticed, sometimes he wants to be noticed. I'm not sure which is worse. I don't know how many times he's followed us without us noticing."

"He comes into IT for no reason," Lapis added. "I mean, sure, so does Laz, but usually he's there to chat at least, you know? Or fix the space heater. Cell just...talks. And it's like he's not talking to have a conversation, he's talking to be heard. Just monologuing like an 80's cartoon villain. At first it was just about really random dumb stuff like how his car broke down again or his brother's kids or whatever, but lately..."

"Lately he's started going on about family," Lazuli said, "in this _really_ creepy way. It's...kind of what made us come talk to you."

"He goes on about how we're all brothers and sisters and stuff and that we should join him and together we'd be 'perfect.' And the more we ignore him the more insistent he gets." Lapis frowned. "I think he was trying to hit on us but it was just...I've been hit on before and usually they at least have the decency to make _sense_."

"Oh, he was _totally_ hitting on us." Lazuli tucked her hair behind her ear. "He kept putting his hand on my shoulder and Lapis's back and I..." She swallowed and clasped her hands in her lap, looking down at them. "I might've confronted him about it yesterday."

Lapis and Lazurite's heads snapped to look at her. Apparently this was news to them. "Alone?!" Lapis said. "Are you insane?!"

"Of course not alone! I have _some_ self-preservation instincts, thanks!" Lazuli looked away. "I brought Krillin for backup."

"Oh, good." Lapis rolled his eyes. "You brought the guy _half your height_ who probably breaks a bone if he sneezes too hard as _backup_. Good call."

She pointed at him, eyes narrowed. "Krillin could totally kick your ass."

" _You_ could kick my ass. I'd like to see Krillin try!"

"Kids, stop fighting." Bulma held up her hands. "What happened, Lazuli?"

Lazuli deflated a little. "Cell totally ignored Krillin and kept trying to convince me to 'join' him. He got _way_ into my personal space and when I tried to get away he...grabbed my arm and wouldn't let go until he'd said his piece."

Lapis was on his feet next to his sister in seconds, panic in his eyes. "He what? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?" His hands hovered over her arms, clearly wanting to grab her and make sure for himself that she was alright but holding back.

"Lapis, I'm _fine_." She patted his hand. "I didn't tell you guys because I didn't want to talk about it. I made Krillin swear he wouldn't say anything, too. I wanted to tell Bulma before I told anyone else. But that's why I was pushing so hard for this meeting this morning." Slowly, Lapis sat down again. "I guess I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that, though. Sorry." She didn't look very sorry, but there was a waver to her voice that sounded genuine.

"He grabbed you, huh..." Bulma shook her head. "Lazuli, Lapis, I'm sorry this happened. I never should've hired him, but I was short on options and kind of desperate. I do wish you'd come to me sooner, though. Maybe we could've prevented some of it."

"Honestly, boss, we weren't sure you'd be on our side." Lapis shrugged.

Bulma frowned. "Excuse me? You think I wouldn't believe my own employees when they say someone's harassing them? Especially when that someone is the camo bitch himself? What the hell kind of boss do you take me for? How long have you worked here again?"

"There is...precedent," Lazurite said carefully, "of employers not taking their employees seriously when they say that they have been harassed in the way Lapis and Lazuli have. Unless it happens constantly or is more extreme, many employers do not consider such behaviour to be harassment."

"Not to mention we weren't sure if our judgement was kinda clouded," Lapis added. "Since we knew Cell before and all."

"You..." Bulma blinked, staring at the twins, taken aback. "You _knew_ him?"

"Sort of." Lazuli pressed her thumb against her bottom lip. "When we were teenagers in foster homes, we met him and his brothers. They were our neighbors at one house. Cell's the youngest and he was that kid who burned ants with a magnifying glass and pulled the wings off flies and all that crap. The other two were nuts too, but he was the worst."

"One time the three of them stuffed all the mailboxes on our street with cicada shells." Lapis shook his head. "We never found out how they got so many, but they weren't quiet about the fact that it was them."

"So because we knew him before and we already didn't like him," Lazuli said, "we weren't sure if we were just blowing things out of proportion. And if we came to you without any real reasoning against him..." She shrugged, and it was clear she was trying to be nonchalant but her hands were shaking. "When we _did_ have something real against him you wouldn't believe us."

"Boy who cried wolf and all," Lapis added.

Bulma sighed and put her head in her hands. "Okay. Alright. So. What I'm getting here is that Cell's been a creep for like...his entire life."

Lazurite nodded. "An accurate assessment."

"And we've got a potential predator working at the library."

"That's...yeah that's pretty much the gist of it." Even about this, Lapis was trying to make light of the situation.

"And _I_ hired him." Bulma sighed again. "The board's going to have a _field_ day about this."

"Is it enough?" Lazuli asked. "Can we get rid of him?"

Bulma glanced at the clock. There were only about five minutes before Cell was scheduled to be back from break. She picked up the phone and dialled Jaco's internal extension. "Jaco, honey," she said, wincing as the baby kicked, "do me a favour."

"I'll do it if you agree never to call me 'honey' again."

"Right, sure, whatever, dork. When Cell comes back from break, stall him as long as you can." She hung up before Jaco could complain, because he always did. The twins were looking at her with identical quizzical expressions, Lazurite impassive as always.

Bulma grinned at them. "So. We need to get rid of Cell. And I've got a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Krillin I love you but Lapis has to make fun of you you're his sister's boyfriend that's how it _works_
> 
> Also westcitypubliclibrary.tumblr.com has some cool extras if you want to check them out


	20. Cell's Break Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cell is missing. So is Lapis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha yes I did take the title from an actual DBZ episode title don't look at me I'm not original
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if there's any content in here that's potentially upsetting or triggering, but if for whatever reason you can't read this chapter please contact me either here or on Tumblr (agirlnameded, eddrawsandwrites, or westcitypubliclibrary) and I can give you a chapter summary/overview.
> 
> This should be the last of the Very Serious stuff for a while and we should hopefully be getting back to more lighthearted things soon. Like Piccolo being incredibly tsundere about his feelings for Nail, and assholes challenging books for no reason.

Jaco walked into Bulma's office without knocking. "Problem."

Bulma sat back in her chair and grimaced. Nothing had been going right all morning--Lazurite was supposed to be guarding the twins until the Cell situation was dealt with, but a busted sink in the family washroom had taken priority. A patron had started making a scene at the Children and Youth Services desk over gay penguins in a children's picture book and Piccolo had lashed out back at him, leaving Bulma to deal with the aftermath. Tien found that a very expensive book on quantum theory had been defaced with "research notes" and was trying to get ahold of the person who'd had it last to get them to pay their hefty fine. "What now?" she asked. "And can it wait five minutes?"

"Can't wait. Know how we're supposed to have that meeting with Cell this afternoon?"

Her face fell. "Oh god."

"Yeah." Jaco frowned and leaned on the doorframe. "He's gone AWOL."

She reached for her desk phone. "When was the last time anyone heard from him?"

"I put out an all-call about half an hour ago when I realised he wasn't in his office." Cell had been confined to "office arrest," as Jaco called it, ever since Lapis and Lazuli came forward two days before. Bulma had "politely" requested he spend more of his time in his office so he could be more easily reached if there was a problem, then insisted on it when he refused. She hadn't told him in so many words that he was in deep shit, but Cell wasn't stupid--she was sure he'd figured it out. "Don't know how long he's been out."

Bulma swore. "Get Lazurite on the walkie and get him to IT immediately if he's not already there. I'm calling Lazuli to make sure she and Lapis are okay."

"On it." Jaco scrambled back to his desk as Bulma dialled extension 18.

As usual, Lazuli picked up right away. "IT department, Lazuli speaking."

"Is Lapis there with you?"

"Bulma, if you wanted to know that you could've just called _his_ extension."

"Lazuli, is he there or not?"

She must have heard the annoyance and desperation in her voice, because she dropped his teasing tone immediately. "No, he just went on his break. He should be in the staff room, or flirting with patrons at Circ. Why?"

"What about Lazurite? Is he there?"

"No, he--oh, there he is, just came in." Jaco stuck his head into her office and gave her a thumbs up. She returned it. "Bulma, what's going on?" Lazuli sounded nervous.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. We haven't seen Cell in about half an hour and he knows we're supposed to have a chat this afternoon--maybe I'm being paranoid, but best to take precautions. Stay in IT, and tell Lazurite he needs to stay there too."

"What about Lapis?"

"We'll take care of him." God, she sounded _way_ more confident about that than she felt. "If anything happens, call me or Jaco _immediately_." She hung up and turned her desk chair to face the door. "Jaco, keep your walkie with you at all times. Go do another all-call for Cell to either come to my office or call me, then call Circulation to see if Lapis is around there. I'm calling the staff room."

"Right." Jaco disappeared again, walkie-talkie bouncing at his hip.

The staff room extension rang a worrying four times before Krillin answered. "Hello?"

"Krillin, is Lapis there?"

"No. Should he be?"

Bulma swore. "According to Lazuli, he just went on break. Any idea where else he might be?"

"Circulation? Lazuli says he thinks it's a good place to pick up girls."

Jaco's voice rang through the overhead speakers. "Cell, please call extension 42 or come to the third floor office immediately, that's Cell, extension 42 or the third floor office. Thank you."

"Oh god." Krillin's voice wavered. He'd always been good at putting two and two together. "You don't think--"

"I don't think anything at this point. But I'm not ruling anything out. Do me a favour--go find Lapis. You can have the rest of your break afterwards, once we know where he is."

"Okay." Krillin was clearly trying not to panic.

"Krillin. He's fine. He probably just went to the Ox Cafe or something." Lapis never went to the cafe next door. But it seemed to make Krillin feel better, because he managed another shaky "okay" before hanging up. "Jaco," she called, "call Tien and Piccolo and tell them to go looking for Cell. I'd go looking myself, but I can't walk very fast." She rubbed her stomach and flinched when the baby kicked. "Top priority right now is finding that son of a--"

Jaco peeped into her office. "Lapis isn't at Circulation. Also Cell's back."

"Fucking shit." She struggled to her feet and stomped out to the outer office. Cell was leaning casually on Jaco's desk, looking for all the world like he hadn't disobeyed her _direct order_. "Where the hell were you?"

He looked at her mildly. "I was thirsty."

"Thirsty." She folded her arms. "There's a staff room, like, ten feet from your office. With a sink. And a coffeemaker. And a fridge." She turned to Jaco. "Let Lazuli and Krillin know we've found Cell, but Lapis is still out."

"Lapis is missing?" To his credit, Cell looked very convincingly surprised and concerned. "Where could he possibly have gone?"

"Not your problem, Cell; he's still covered by his break time. You, on the other hand, were missing for over half an hour. And it's too early for you to take lunch." She pressed her thumb and index finger together. "I was _this_ close to calling security on you."

"We don't have security."

"And by security I mean my husband, Nappa, and Lazurite." She made a mental note to hire some actual security guards at some point. "Where's Lapis, Cell?"

"I have no--"

"Don't give me that. I know you know where he is."

"No, I don't." He was trying, she knew he was, but he didn't look innocent at all.

"Bullshit. Where is he."

"We can do this all day," Cell said, folding his arms, "or you can admit you're wrong and actually go about finding him if it's that big a concern. He's probably just at the Ox Cafe."

"Just got off the phone with Chi-Chi," Jaco said, putting the phone down. "She said she and Maza haven't seen him today."

Bulma folded her arms back at Cell. "Well. Looks like that's not an option."

Was it her, or did his eye twitch? "I told you, I don't know where he is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to _be_ , so--"

And that was _it_ ; Bulma was through dealing with this. "Listen, asshole, we know you've been harassing Lapis and Lazuli. You and Lapis going mysteriously AWOL at the same time is more than a little suspicious."

"I haven't been _harassing_ them!"

"You've been stalking them through the library and bothering them in their department."

"Well, they never told me _not_ to come talk to them. If they didn't want to talk to me they should've said something."

Shit. He had her there. "You invaded their personal space on several accounts."

"Did not."

"Cell, I know this is kind of a he-said-she-said situation, but at this point I think the twins are way more reliable than you." She glared up at him. "Is this going to be a problem now, Cell? Because you're halfway to being fired already, and if I have to call the cops I will."

"Halfway to--! I haven't done anything--!"

"Stalking Lapis and Lazuli through the library. Invading staff's personal space. Threatening Piccolo when he had your nephews banned for assault." Bulma ticked each offense off on her fingers. "And now someone you're _known_ to have a special interest in goes missing right after we realise we can't contact you. I'm going to ask you one more time, Cell: where. Is. Lapis."

The phone on Jaco's desk rang. Cell ignored it and drew himself up to his full height, which seemed taller than it had a few hours ago. "Listen, you," he started, "you can't just _decide_ I've done anything when we don't even know if anything's _happened_! He's probably just making out with Lazurite in the boiler room or something!"

"Okay I'm gonna stop you right there." Bulma grimaced. She did _not_ need the mental image of two of her employees making out. "If you--"

"Bulma?" Jaco peeked out from behind Cell, phone still in his hand.

"Not now, Jaco. If--"

"Bulma, this is important."

She shot him an exasperated look. "Now what?"

"Lapis is in Tech Serv."

Before Bulma could properly react, Cell's eyes widened to double their normal size and he whirled to look at Jaco. "What?"

"Yeah, I've got Vegeta on the line right now. He says that Lapis was locked in a broom closet." He squinted at the man who was rapidly becoming the _former_ HR guy. "By Cell."

Cell's hands balled into fists and Bulma breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Tell Vegeta I'll be down in a minute and call the police. I'm pretty sure stuffing someone into a broom closet counts as assault, wouldn't you say--"

Cell shoved past her and bolted out the door. Bulma managed to grab a wall-mounted shelf to stop her fall and swore. "Jaco, call the cops _now_."

But Jaco had vaulted the desk and was out the door after Cell already, and Bulma swore again, louder, and went to make the call herself.

~~~

"Dumbass."

Bulma patted Vegeta's arm. He stood behind her chair, arms around her shoulders, face in her hair. "Love you too, babe."

"When something like that happens you're supposed to call me."

"And I was going to. But then I got kind of distracted when Cell showed up."

"He _shoved_ you. What if you'd actually fallen over? With the baby and everything--" She heard him swallow. "If I'd been here I could've at least done something. Like punch him in the face."

She laughed. "Well, I mean, you _could've_ , but then I would've had to write you up or whatever. And it probably would've affected Cell's chances of actually getting arrested."

Vegeta started to say something else, but then Jaco wandered in and Vegeta's hands immediately left her. "Good news," Jaco said, one hand on his hip. "Just got off the phone with the police. Cell's in their custody--apparently they nabbed him back at his apartment. He refuses to talk without a lawyer present."

"Smart. How's Lapis?" Bulma asked.

Jaco shrugged. "Haven't heard from IT lately, but probably the same as he was an hour ago. Lazuli and Lazurite are down there with him, but I think the police have left."

Bulma pulled herself to her feet, Vegeta at her elbow. "I'm going down there to talk to him. He's going to need at _least_ the rest of the day off."

~~~

"I can walk."

"I don't care."

Lapis squirmed in Lazurite's hold and folded his arms. "Put me down, you big lug. I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are." For someone who didn't show a lot of emotion, Lazurite sounded incredibly condescending. He continued walking down the street towards Lapis's apartment, holding Lapis under the back and knees like he was his bride. Honestly, after the morning Lapis had had, Lazurite being protective of him was nice, stabilizing, but like hell was he going to admit that out loud.

"I agreed to let you _walk_ me back to my apartment, not _carry_." An elderly woman stared at them from across the street, and he gave her a wave. She turned up her nose and turned away. "Seriously. Laz. Put me down."

To his surprise, Lazurite complied. They were in front of Lapis's building, and Lapis sighed, knowing Lazurite had only put him down because he needed Lapis to get his keys. "Alright, big guy," he said, digging his keychain out of his pocket. He fumbled with the keys--work keys, keys to Lazuli's apartment for emergencies, black cat keychain Lazurite once bought him because "it reminded me of you"--and finally found the key to his building. "You win." The key turned in the lock and he opened the door, bowing Lazurite through it. "After you."

Lazurite raised an eyebrow at him, but went through anyway, Lapis on his heels. Lazurite had been to Lapis's so many times he knew the route to his apartment better than Lapis (and Lapis suddenly realised he'd never actually been to Lazurite's place, how weird was that?). They walked down the stairs and through the halls in silence, and Lapis's mind started working in overdrive again. He'd been _attacked_ at _work_ by a creep with a fascination for him and his sister. Honestly, there was a part of him that was glad Cell had only gotten him--at least Lazuli hadn't had to be subjected to anything. Not that anything had happened aside from being locked in a closet next to Tech Serv for twenty minutes and also having to listen to Cell's creepy laughter, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Cell had something particularly nasty planned once he had both of them.

"Lapis?" Lazurite was waiting in front of his door for Lapis to unlock it. "Are you sure you are alright?"

He waved his friend off. "Don't worry about me." He unlocked his apartment and strode in, trying to pretend he wasn't still shaken over the whole experience. "Basement sweet basement, am I right? Boy, it's good to be back. I think I forgot to water the cactus this morning."

"Do you need anything else, Lapis?"

Lapis faltered in the middle of stretching his back. "Uh. No, I don't think so." Aside from some constant reassurance that it was over and everything was going to be alright, of course.

"Then do you want to be left alone?"

He turned to face Lazurite again. The giant of a man was still in the doorway, arms folded, face unreadable. But Lapis knew him too well--the tilt of his head, slight clench to his jaw, feet firmly planted--all of it pointed to Lazurite being stubbornly concerned.

And honestly, maybe Lazurite knew Lapis just as well as Lapis knew him, because everything about him screamed that he wasn't going anywhere whether or not Lapis wanted him to, because he knew just as well as Lapis did that if there was one thing Lapis didn't want right now, it was to be left alone.

So Lapis shrugged and scratched the bridge of his nose and pretended for both of their sakes that he didn't care either way. "Not really. Stay if you want. I taped more of that wildcat documentary, if you wanted to watch that."

Lapis regarded him silently for another moment or seven, then nodded and came into the apartment, closing the door behind him. "You stay there," he told Lapis, walking towards the tiny kitchen. "I will make you some tea."

"Laz, I'm fine."

Lazurite's messy mop of hair poked out of the kitchen. "You are not. I will make you tea, and we will sit together and do whatever you want, because that is what you need right now--a friend, someone to be with."

Lapis stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. "Well, when you're right, you're right," he mumbled gruffly. He was not shaking. He _wasn't_.

There were arms around his shoulders and hands rubbing his back. He wrapped his arms around Lazurite and buried his face in his chest. "It will be alright," Lazurite said gently. " _You_ will be alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now that _that_ nightmare is over, things should be fine for a while! I mean who else could possibly cause any trouble now that--
> 
> ...
> 
> Does anyone else hear Maximum the Hormone playing in the distance or is that just me?


	21. Bedroom Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Piccolo and Nail start communicating regularly, some abrupt realisations are made.
> 
> Yamcha cackles with glee in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book referenced in this chapter is _And Tango Makes Three_ by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson.
> 
> Selri is a Xenoverse OC who technically belongs to my brother. (She's a Saiyan with blue hair and I love her.)
> 
> ALSO just to clarify: Karen is _not_ Karin/Korin, she's just a random background character. I didn't think that through too well when I was naming her.

"Hard at work, as usual."

Piccolo winced, focus dropping away to leave him blinking stupidly at his computer screen. He fought back the urge to snap at whoever was trying to interrupt him with small talk and instead scowled up at the man in front of the desk. His glare dropped away when his eyes met Nail's. "Oh. It's you."

"Don't sound so excited or anything." Nail folded his arms. "You work too hard. Every time I'm in here, you're hard at work over here."

"You're only in every couple of weeks for less than five minutes to pick up Dende. Less now that school's out." Piccolo shrugged. "Not exactly the best sample size."

He wasn't about to tell Nail that he wasn't wrong, though--Piccolo was almost always working, going to or coming from work, thinking about work, or asleep. He had few hobbies and even fewer people he'd call friends. It suited him just fine. Piccolo wasn't a social creature by any means.

(Sometimes, though, he thought that maybe it'd be nice to be in closer contact with Nail. But those kinds of thoughts always made him feel weird--warm, nervous, soft--so he did his best to ignore them. Especially when the man himself was present and the warm, nervous, soft feelings were even more rampant.)

"You'll be here for Dende, then," he said, pushing away from the desk and standing. When Nail nodded, Piccolo nodded back before sticking his head into the office. "Selri," he said to the blue-haired young woman at the office desk, "take care of the front desk until I'm back."

She nodded, then glanced at her screen. "Do you want me to finish this post for the teen department blog first or wait until you're back?"

He waved her off. "I'll only be a minute. If that guy comes back about _And Tango Makes Three_ tell him to stuff it. I'll back you up and everything." Selri laughed and he turned back to Nail. "Alright, they're over by the non-fiction today."

Nail trailed behind him and Piccolo walked confidently towards where he knew Dende, Gohan, and Videl were hiding out. The kids' plan was to move to different parts of the library every time they were there so that no one would be able to find them and they could start living in the library at night, but they weren't very good at it. So far they'd easily been found by staff, patrons, and parents alike. But, if nothing else, they had determination on their side, the type only possessed by six year olds, so Piccolo had no doubt they'd be doing this at least through the summer.

He flinched at Nail's hand on his shoulder. "I was thinking."

"That can be dangerous." It was an automatic response, one conditioned into him by being raised in a household that delighted in terrible jokes. But he didn't shake Nail off.

"Want to exchange numbers?"

Piccolo stopped walking and Nail walked into him. He turned to look at the man, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his suddenly dry mouth. "What?" was all he could manage.

"Numbers. Phone numbers." Nail's hand was still on his shoulder. "You're right, I don't see you all that often. I don't know that much about you." His smile was genuine and Piccolo found himself blushing. "But I'd like to know more. You seem like an interesting guy, Mr. Piccolo."

Nail's eyes were half-closed, inviting, _soft_ , and there was a warm glow in Piccolo's stomach, growing warmer the longer Piccolo met Nail's gaze. It made him nervous and he swallowed. "O-okay." He cursed himself for stuttering, but Nail's smile widening and his eyes brightening made him forget. "My phone's back at the office."

The other man shrugged. "We'll do it on the way out, then."

"Right." Piccolo turned away and started walking again. Nail's hand dropped off his shoulder and he struggled with the sudden urge to grab it. What was _wrong_ with him?

"I'm glad you said yes," Nail said as the three kids came into view, huddled in a single beanbag chair and giggling at a book about penguins. "I'd like to get to know you better."

Bewildered, Piccolo glanced at him. "Why?" Not that he hadn't thought the same thing about Nail--he seemed like an interesting guy and Piccolo wanted to know him better.

Nail shrugged and the soft look was back. "Why not?" Before Piccolo could come up with an answer, Nail had walked off to scoop Dende up. He was left standing and watching, face fire-engine red.

~~~

"Are you on Candy Crush again?"

Piccolo glared at Yamcha from his seat on the staff room couch. "Not that it's any of your business, but no."

"Neko Atsume?"

"No."

"Tetris?"

"For fuck's sake, _no_!" He tried to focus on the words he was typing out, but with his thick fingers and broken concentration it was difficult. "I'm _texting_. You know, communicating. That thing you're _supposed_ to do on a phone."

Yamcha waved airily. "Don't give me that; you spend more time playing video games on that thing than anything else." He leaned on the table, resting his chin on his arms. "Who're you texting? I didn't think you had any associates outside of work."

"Very funny." Piccolo sent the text and tucked his phone in his pocket. "And also none of your business."

"If you don't tell me, I'm just going to guess." When Piccolo glared at him, he grinned. "I'm bored, but not bored enough to skip the last five minutes of my break. You're the only one here. My phone is dead. Talk to me."

"No."

"Is it that one old guy who comes in every couple of weeks?"

Piccolo knew Yamcha was talking about Kami. "No." He was telling the truth--it wasn't his uncle. Even on the off chance Yamcha guessed right, though, he wasn't going to tell him so. It wasn't his business and he was just being a nosy idiot, no matter how bored he was.

"Is it Goku? I know you two know each other."

He actually recoiled a little, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. " _God_ no." Goku was the absolute last person in the world he wanted to keep in regular contact with, including but not limited to Cell and Vegeta. (Although, thankfully, Cell wasn't a problem anymore.)

"Worth a shot." Yamcha stretched and Piccolo's phone beeped. He opened it and started texting again. "It's not that one guy that gives you bedroom eyes all the time, is it?"

Piccolo fumbled with his phone and accidentally sent a text reading _fjfkalrseu9fvjk_. "Who the _fuck_ is giving me bedroom eyes?"

Yamcha blinked. "You mean you hadn't noticed? Dude, there's this guy, he's like...your height, bald, kinda looks like you now that I think about it. Doesn't come in very often but when he does he's usually in your department. Not ringing any bells?"

The description was ringing a _lot_ of bells, and they were all chiming "Nail, Nail, Nail" over and over. "No." Nail was giving him bedroom eyes? What? Since when?

"He's there picking up his nephew or cousin or something--I've seen you talking to him!"

Piccolo kept his eyes glued to his phone as his thumbs flew across the keyboard. _*five o'clock_. "Fine, maybe I've seen him. I don't remember any 'bedroom eyes.'"

"That's because you're totally blind about that shit." When Piccolo glared at him, he shrugged. "You are! Even Tien noticed when I pointed it out, and he doesn't notice I'm trying to make a move unless I'm sitting on him with my hands in his--"

"TOO MUCH INFORMATION."

"The point is," Yamcha continued, and Piccolo busied himself with his phone again, trying in vain to tune Yamcha out, "you don't notice that kind of stuff. I do."

"It took you three years to figure out Tien was in love with you."

"I notice it about _other_ people," Yamcha admitted. "But seriously, is it that guy? Are you guys friends?" He sat up straight, eyes sparkling. "Are you _dating_?"

"No!" He _was_ texting Nail, but hell if he was going to give Yamcha that satisfaction. "And Nail _doesn't_ give me bedroom eyes!"

Yamcha propped his chin on his hand and smirked at Piccolo. "So his name is Nail, then." Piccolo ignored him and closed his phone case. "You're texting him right now," Yamcha declared abruptly. "I know it."

"Technically I'm not texting anybody right now." He held up his hands to show he wasn't holding his phone.

"Pedantic shit. You know what I mean. You're texting that Nail guy that has a crush on you."

"Nail does _not_ have a crush on me." Heat rose in Piccolo's cheeks and he looked away. "And even if he did, I'm not interested." The sick feeling from earlier returned, but it was different now--where before he'd hated the idea of being in regular contact with Goku, now his stomach twisted at something else. He couldn't pin down what it was. He didn't like the idea of _not_ being in contact with Nail--ever since they'd exchanged phone numbers a week ago, they'd been communicating regularly and it drastically lifted Piccolo's mood to have someone to talk to that understood him. But more than that, he didn't like the words coming out of his mouth. _Nail does not have a crush on me._ That...that hurt and he wasn't sure why. _And even if he did, I'm not interested._ He felt like he had as a child when he was caught lying and Kami scolded him.

"You know what Tien told me one time?"

Thankful for the abrupt subject change, Piccolo forgot that he wanted Yamcha to stop talking. "No." His phone went off and he reached for it.

"He said that one time Nail and his nephew-cousin-whatever--"

"Cousin." Goddammit Yamcha _was_ still on about this.

"Cousin, whatever, they were checking out books and the kid asked Nail about you." Piccolo shook his head. Dende was an...interesting kid. "He asked Nail if he liked you, and Nail was like 'yeah, don't _you_ like Mr. Piccolo?' and the kid was like 'yeah but you _love_ Mr. Piccolo right?' and apparently the look on Nail's face was--exactly like the look on your face right now oh my god."

Piccolo clutched his phone and stared wide-eyed at Yamcha. He didn't--he wasn't--Nail didn't--Nail _couldn't_ \--

He fumbled his phone case open and tried to focus. His eyes scanned Nail's message-- _want to meet up after work?_ \--over and over again before registering it. Oh god he wanted to meet up. Normally he'd say "sure, it's a Friday night, I don't have to work tomorrow and I have nothing better to do, anything in mind," but now he was questioning everything: _did_ Nail like him? Was he asking Piccolo out as friends or something else? What _bedroom eyes_ was Yamcha talking about?

Wait.

He thought about the way Nail looked at him sometimes, eyes slightly closed, full of promises, a tilted smile, inviting. He thought of how it always made him feel--warm, nervous, soft.

Were...were _those_ bedroom eyes?

"Piccolo?" Yamcha's face was the picture of concern. "You okay?"

"Fine." He slowly rose to his feet, sticking his phone in his pocket and trying not to show he was shaking. "I'm leaving now."

Yamcha started to say something, but Piccolo had already swept out of the staff room and was running down the hall towards the stairs.

~~~

Alright. So. Bedroom eyes.

Piccolo tapped his pen against the side of his computer monitor and stared unseeingly at it. It had been over an hour since Yamcha's comments in the staff room. He still hadn't texted Nail back.

Bedroom eyes.

_Did_ that face Nail made count as bedroom eyes? Piccolo had never thought of it that way. That was just...a face Nail made. Nothing more, nothing less, just a face Nail made sometimes. How it made Piccolo feel was irrelevant.

And really, just because Yamcha had planted that stupid idea in his head didn't mean he was right. Nail was not giving him any sort of look that implied he wanted to be in a relationship with Piccolo. Yamcha could think what he liked; Piccolo knew Nail better than he did.

Right. Okay. That was settled then.

So why did Piccolo still feel so awful about it?

"Boss?"

Piccolo did not jump a few inches out of his seat and slam his pen down on the desk. He turned to look up at Mai, standing behind him and holding his cell phone. "This thing keeps going off. I didn't know if it was important or--"

He stood and grabbed it. "Probably nothing." He shoved it in his pocket. "Do me a favour and proofread Selri's latest blog post. I'm sure it's fine, but you know that girl and computers."

"A-alright." Mai took his seat at the desk, but peered up at him instead of getting right to work. "Are you okay? You seem...off."

"I'm fine." His phone vibrated in his pocket. "If anyone needs me, tell them to fuck off."

"I think I'd get fired for that" he heard her say before he shut the door to the office.

This was stupid. Stupid and unprofessional. He had a _job_ to do, dammit. He didn't have time to be distracted by unnecessary feelings. It was almost like when he'd first started getting attached to Gohan. Only there was something different about it, and he couldn't really put his finger on what. With Gohan, he grew to want to protect him, see him happy, _help_ him be happy. With Nail...he wanted all of that with Nail, too, but _different_. And then there was his tendency to think about Nail at completely random times, whether or not he'd seen him recently. And his random urges to hold his hand or be close to him or--

The world stopped turning, everything froze for a long minute, nothing outside of the room existed. Piccolo's eyes were the size of dinner plates and his heart thumped wildly in his chest and he had to lean back against the wall for support. Shit. Nail didn't have a crush on Piccolo.

Piccolo had a crush on _Nail_.

The door opened and time moved normally again. "Boss?" It was Mai, of course it was Mai, who else would it be. (Selri. But her shift ended half an hour ago.) He tried to pull himself back under control, but it was too late, she'd already noticed. "Boss, you're not okay." She was immediately in front of him, cradling one of his huge hands in both of her small ones, because his other hand was clutching his chest. "Did something happen? Do you need to sit down? Oh, God, you're so _pale_..."

"I'm--" Piccolo cut himself off, staring dumbly down at her. "I think I've--I have--I--"

"I'll just go tell your guest you can't talk." Mai patted his hand and released it, but before she could get too far he'd grabbed her arm.

"Guest? What?" He struggled to focus on the conversation at hand. His mind was whirling with thoughts of time he and Nail had spent together, times when he _should_ have noticed how he felt but didn't--

"There's a man at the desk looking to talk to you." She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, and Piccolo looked through the narrow one-way glass in the door's window. The bottom dropped out of his stomach and he worked his throat, trying to swallow.

Nail was leaning on the desk, trying to look through the glass.

"I'll just tell him you're busy or something," Mai started, but Piccolo shook his head, squared his shoulders, and walked through the door. He was going to face this head-on if it killed him.

Nail looked startled when he strode out, Mai trailing behind him and looking between the two men worriedly. "You look like hell," he said by way of greeting.

Instead of answering, Piccolo marched around the desk and grabbed Nail's wrist. "Um, that didn't come out right," Nail admitted. "Are you--" He cut himself off as Piccolo yanked him along behind him, dragging him off to the children's poetry section. No one ever went there. "Piccolo, hold on, are--hey, listen--what--"

"Okay," Piccolo said, turning to face Nail. "What is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know! I get it, you're solitary by nature, but right after I ask to hang out you go silent on me." Nail yanked his hand away from Piccolo and folded his arms. "I got worried. Thought you were mad that I was moving too fast or something."

Piccolo blinked. "Too fast?"

"Yes, too fast. You know." He gestured between them. "We only just started talking regularly; I wasn't sure if you didn't want to hang out because of that or because you were avoiding me for some reason."

"I'm." Piccolo cleared his throat. "I'm not avoiding you."

Something seemed to relax in Nail's shoulders. "Okay then. Why didn't you answer my texts? I sent, like, eight."

"I was working," Piccolo said lamely. It wasn't a full truth, but it was close enough--technically, he _had_ been on the clock when most of the texts came in. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had to stay with your grandfather at all times."

Nail waved vaguely. "Karen's with him."

Oh. _Karen_. Piccolo didn't like Karen. He'd never met her, but there was something that gripped him whenever Nail talked about her and he didn't like it. With a start he realised it was jealousy--he wanted Nail to pay attention to _him_ , not Karen. Oh fuck, he had it worse than he'd thought.

"And actually, I'm off for the rest of the night." Nail shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. "So, you know. It's almost five. Offer still stands." And he smiled at Piccolo, eyes half closed, and it was soft, promising, nervous, inviting. _Warm_.

Piccolo was struck dumb, glancing from Nail's eyes to his mouth and back, hands twitching lightly at his sides. "Bedroom eyes," he murmured.

Nail's smile faltered. "Sorry?"

"Is this--are you--" Piccolo frowned, took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts. "Is this a date?"

A perilous, terrifying few seconds ticked by before Nail's smile spread wider. "If you want it to be."

"Yes." Piccolo clapped a hand over his mouth, but the damage was done. Nail brightened further and Piccolo swallowed. "I think I'd like that," he managed, lowering his hand and instead reaching for Nail's.

Nail squeezed his hand, leaned forward to brush his lips against Piccolo's cheek, and murmured "I'll see you at the front doors at five then" in his ear. Then he pulled away and, with a wink over his shoulder, he was gone.

Piccolo steadied himself against the bookshelf. So. Nail _had_ been giving him those eyes after all.

He wasn't sure whether he should thank Yamcha or punch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I even ship this help me
> 
> ALSO!!! I'm currently running a Thing over on westcitypubliclibrary.tumblr.com regarding new hires. Check it out [here](http://westcitypubliclibrary.tumblr.com/post/147857012864/job-posting-security-guard)!
> 
> (Piccolo is absolutely a mobile gamer you can't convince me I'm wrong he's a level 23 trainer in Pokemon Go)


	22. Mr. Mayor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the absolute disaster that was their last Human Resources representative, the WCPL bigwigs are scrambling to find someone to take his place. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), the mayor has a..."suggestion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you looking for more Vegeta: here he is in all his disgusting glory sorry Geets I love you

Jaco absently scrolled through his emails. There were only six emails from applicants for the newly open HR position so far, and it closed in a few hours. Normally, the head of human resources would be dealing with these things, but considering their head of human resources was currently...indisposed, the job fell to him instead. Glorious.

Three of the applicants were nowhere near fitting the qualifications, with copy-paste resumes and no cover letters, clearly having just applied to everything they found on their job application website. Of the remaining three, two of them had education but no experience, and one had experience but somehow no education. This was the exact sort of thing that had forced them into hiring Cell in the first place--he was the only one with the proper credentials. And he'd interviewed well.

On the other hand, the submissions were pouring in for the security guard positions they'd posted at the same time. Which was great, because they had so many candidates to choose from...but it also meant Jaco had to go through every single one before sending them on to Bulma. There was a _reason_ he'd decided to become a receptionist instead of a human resources manager, dammit, and this was it. Absolutely no fun whatsoever. Hopefully they'd hire a new HR rep soon so Jaco could shove the paperwork onto them and make them deal with it instead.

Jaco deleted a few month-old memos and moved on. It was important that Jaco kept his inbox relatively clean. If an email needed to be referenced, he needed to know exactly where it was and how to access it as quickly as possible. That said, anything more than a month old was a waste of space. So once a week, on Friday mornings, he went through his inbox and deleted what he didn't need.

His phone rang and he picked up his headset lazily, flipping it on. The number was from an outside line, so he mustered up his professional voice. "West City Public Library, Administrative Office. Jaco speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hello, good morning." The voice was smooth, clipped, professional, with an accent Jaco couldn't place. "This is the mayor's office calling."

Jaco immediately sat up a little straighter. "Good morning." Shit.

"We're calling to speak to the CEO, Ms..." He trailed off, clearly reading a name off of something. "Briefs?"

"Dr. Bulma Briefs, yes." Bulma was fond of reminding people that she did, in fact, have a PhD, and she wasn't afraid to use it. Jaco could respect that, and reminded people almost as often as she did.

"I tried Ms. Briefs's extension, but couldn't reach her." Jaco scowled. Asshole.

" _Doctor_ Briefs is out for an appointment. Won't be back until this afternoon." He opened his scheduling software. "Around one, I believe."

"The mayor would like to speak with her."

Jaco froze. "Oh," he said carefully, "I see." _Shit._

"Yes, he has a few...suggestions."

"I'll bet," Jaco muttered.

"What was that?"

He bit his tongue. He hadn't realised he'd said that out loud. "Well, I could make an appointment for you," he offered, figuring that moving right along was the best course of action. "Like I said, she'll be back around one, so would one-thirty be alright for you?"

"Let me put you on hold." The man didn't wait for an answer, and suddenly Jaco was listening to a terrible budget cover of "Time In a Bottle."

Jaco took the opportunity to bury his face in his arms and groan. Perfect, just perfect. The mayor, of all people. Jaco was an elite assistant, best of the best, top of his class in night school, and even _he_ wasn't equipped to deal with this. The mayor, the one that nobody ever seemed to vote for but who always won the election by a landslide. And _he_ apparently had some kind of personal business to settle. Fantastic. Jaco wasn't paid enough for this.

"Thank you for waiting."

Jaco sat bolt upright in his seat, even though the person on the other end couldn't see him. (Hell, though, with all the stories people told about the folks down at City Hall, nothing was certain. Maybe he could.) "Not a problem."

"One-thirty will work just fine. Mayor Frieza will see you then."

~~~

"You heard, right?"

Raditz looked blankly up at Yamcha. "Heard what?"

Yamcha leaned a hip against a book cart, arms folded. "About the mayor."

"Someone finally assassinate him?"

Both men glanced at Vegeta, buried beneath precarious stacks of nonfiction as usual. "No," Yamcha said slowly. "Apparently he's got some beef he wants to talk about."

Raditz shook his head. "Frieza's always got beef about something. Last I heard he was running for provincial politics next. Guess being mayor wasn't enough for him."

"Pretty sure nothing is," Nappa chimed in. "One of these days it's going to turn out he's been trying to take over the world."

Vegeta, Raditz, and Nappa shared a look. Yamcha would've felt totally out of the loop if not for the fact that Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz only made sense about three times out of ten. "What a creep," Yamcha said instead. He shook his head. "I gotta say, I feel bad for Bulma."

Vegeta's head instantly snapped around to look at Yamcha. "What about her?"

Yamcha grimaced. He shouldn't have said anything--everyone knew how overprotective Vegeta was of his wife, even if he denied it to basically everyone. "Ah, you know. Being the one having to deal with him and all."

Vegeta shot to his feet, books clattering to the ground around him. He ignored them, eyes fixed on Yamcha. "Deal with him? With who? Frieza? He's _here_?"

"Y-yeah, that's what I was saying." Vegeta's panic was tangible, intense, overwhelming. Yamcha felt like he should be panicking, too, even though that was ridiculous. Sure, he didn't like the guy, but Frieza was just the _mayor_ , not some cackling cartoon supervillain. Bulma could handle a bureaucratic dispute. "He's got some beef with the library, so he and Bulma are discussing stuff right--"

There was a crash as more books fell over and Vegeta dashed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Yamcha blinked after him, then turned to Raditz. "What the hell's _his_ deal? It's just the mayor."

Raditz shook his head. "Yamcha, my friend, there are some questions better left unanswered."

~~~

No no no no no no no no no.

Vegeta took the stairs two at a time. His legs were already burning by the second floor, but the elevator would only slow him down. He had to get to Bulma's office as quickly as possible.

What was she _thinking_ , willingly being alone with that monster? She knew what he'd done, what he was capable of doing, Vegeta knew she knew. He'd told her himself.

He burst through the door to Jaco's office, ignoring the assistant entirely and dashing through towards Bulma's office. He wrenched the door open and skidded to a halt on the other side of it.

There was Bulma, on her side of the desk, a subtle reminder to everyone in the room that this was, in fact, her domain, and she was in charge here. And the people in the room definitely needed that reminder. One was tall, not lanky but trim, long green hair in a braid over one shoulder. Another was short and squat, with squinty eyes and a mess of spikes on his head. When they saw Vegeta, their mouths tilted up in twin condescending smirks--they recognised him, too.

Vegeta folded his arms. "Zarbon. Dodoria."

"Vegeta." Zarbon flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Long time no see."

The third person was in a chair in front of Bulma's desk, the other two standing behind him. He turned to Vegeta, leaning an elbow on the back of the chair. Frieza didn't look like he'd aged a day since Vegeta last saw him, even though it had been nearly ten years now since he and Nappa quit working for him. His mouth turned up at the side, and somehow the fact that he wore purple lipstick didn't make it any less intimidating of a gesture. "Well, Vegeta. I certainly never expected to see you here."

Vegeta's hands balled into fists and his stance shifted. Frieza was lying through his teeth, of course--he knew where Vegeta and Nappa worked, and it wouldn't surprise him to know Frieza knew where they lived and what they ate for breakfast, too. It would terrify him, sure, but it wouldn't surprise him. "Mr. Mayor."

"Vegeta, is there a problem?" Bulma stayed seated, which Vegeta knew was a combination of being pregnant and a way of saying "I'm busy right now" without speaking a word. "Can it wait? Mr. Frieza and I were just discussing the human resources disaster from last week." Her eyes bored into his. "Don't do anything stupid," they seemed to say.

Instead of answering, Vegeta edged over to Bulma's desk, keeping an eye on Frieza, scooped Bulma up, and made for the door again with her cradled in his arms. "Vegeta! Put me down this instant!" Bulma's face was bright red, but Vegeta ignored her, zipping through the door. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frieza," she called over his shoulder, "I'll be back when I've dealt with this!"

Frieza's delighted laughing followed them out into the hall, even after Vegeta had kicked the door shut behind them. A shiver ran down his spine as he made for the stairwell. That sound had haunted him for years, and he'd always hoped to never have to deal with the source of it again.

As usual, though, the universe seemed to have it in for him.

"Vegeta, _seriously_." Bulma had her arms around his neck for stability as she glared daggers up at him. "This is a very important meeting, and I was on the verge of getting him to--"

"You weren't getting him to do anything," Vegeta said bitterly, setting her down on the stairway landing. The stairwell was hardly ever used, and the security cameras for it didn't work (which Vegeta expected to change once they'd gotten around to hiring the security guards Bulma kept talking about). It was as good a place as any to have a private conversation. "Frieza does what he wants. He's a manipulator; he'll twist words just enough to make you think his ideas are your own, or at least what you want. I was half _raised_ by him, Bulma. I know him better than you."

She folded her arms. "Vegeta. I know what he did. I know how he 'raised' you. I get it. He's a creep, the worst of the worst, there is no evil in the world that can match his, et cetera. But give me some credit--I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," he said automatically.

"Then trust me. For more than five minutes, trust me to know what I'm doing." Bulma winked at him. "I didn't get to be the youngest CEO in WCPL history on my good looks alone, you know."

Vegeta shifted, not looking at her. She thought he'd overreacted, and to someone who didn't know Frieza it would certainly seem that way. But Vegeta _did_ know Frieza, knew him from his days leading gangs and collecting "protection" money and sending Vegeta and Nappa to do his dirty work. And although to the world at large the Cold Empire absolutely did not exist, Vegeta knew better. He didn't know how far they reached now, but when he was part of it it had reached halfway across the country, probably further now. Frieza had supposedly cut all ties with it when he went "legit" and became mayor, but Zarbon and Dodoria's presence spoke to the contrary. And, as Vegeta knew well, old habits died hard--there was no doubt in his mind that City Hall was staffed almost entirely by Frieza's old Cold Empire associates.

But he said none of this to Bulma.

"You have no idea what you're getting into" was all he said instead.

"Vegeta." She cupped his face in her hand. "I have some idea. You've made sure of that." That did make him relax a little. She wasn't wrong; he'd never hidden his past from her, even the more disturbing parts. "Besides, if he was here about literally anything else, we'd have more of a problem. He's got someone to fill the HR position for us!"

Vegeta had been about to retort about her use of the word "literally" ("so what if he was here to ask someone to tie his shoelaces, would that be more of a problem"), but at her next words he felt sick to his stomach. "No, absolutely not! You can't allow him to put any of his staff here permanently! They're all like him, do you understand? All of them!"

"I don't have a lot of options, Vegeta, and he knows that!" She was clearly just as unhappy with the situation as he was. "This is the the guy who technically signs all our paychecks! Besides, the position closed an hour ago, and we don't have nearly enough applicants to hold interviews, let alone hire anyone. Do you want another Cell? Because that's what we're going to get if we don't accept his offer."

"We're going to get another Cell if we _do_ accept his offer!" Vegeta's teeth ground together, shoulders around his ears, hands clenched into fists. "Bulma, you absolutely _cannot do this_!"

"If you have any other suggestions," she said, turning and heading back towards her office, "now would be the time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make this longer so I could fit in a THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FINAL FORM joke, but I couldn't get it to work so maybe another time.
> 
> Also, next time on Public Library Z: WHO THE NEW SECURITY GUARDS ARE I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS CHAPTER YOU GUYS


	23. The Hiring Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole Cell disaster made one thing clear: WCPL needs a security team. Since they don't currently have a Human Resources manager to fall back on, Bulma and Jaco recruit Krillin and Nappa to help with interviews.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU VERY MUCH to everyone who submitted a suggestion for security staff! I'll post a full suggestion list (with credits) at the end of this chapter.

Bulma peeked out from the window in her office's door. "Looks like our first applicant is here."

Jaco flopped his upper body across the table. "I still don't see why _I_ have to be here. This isn't part of my job. I should be out at my desk telling people who come in for their interviews that they have to wait in the chairs across from my desk until you're ready for them."

"Quit complaining." Bulma turned back to the people assembled in the room--Jaco, Krillin, and Nappa. "You're here because the new HR guy couldn't start until next week, and you're the next best thing."

"Thanks," Jaco snorted.

"You're welcome. Besides, I called in a favour and got my friend Goku to cover the desk for the day. Krillin, you're here because you're the union rep." He nodded, eyes wide and friendly, ready to help. Bulma was glad he was the union representative--anyone else might not do as good a job at it. "And Nappa, you've been the closest we've had to an actual security staff for years. If anyone knows what to look for in a security guard candidate, it's you."

Nappa scratched his moustache. "Sure, boss. But you know I don't actually have any security guarding experience, right?"

She winked at him. "Sure you don't." Vegeta had told her about how he grew up, and his bodyguard Nappa featured in a lot of those stories. But if Nappa wanted to act like that hadn't happened, she wouldn't hold it against him--some of those stories kept Vegeta up at night, and she'd be lying if she said they didn't disturb her, too.

"Okay, then." She took her seat and gestured to Jaco. "Jaco, be a darling and bring in the first contestant."

"I'll do it if you never ask me to 'be a darling' again," Jaco said, moving to the door.

~~~

"No."

"He had a decent amount of experience," Nappa pointed out. "Not as much as the application asked for, but--"

" _No._ "

"Bulma," Jaco chided, "you can't not hire somebody because of his haircut."

"It was a _mullet_ , Jaco!" she snapped. "A mullet! Who the hell even wears their hair like that anymore?"

"Not to mention he'd only just started his most recent job, like, a month ago," Krillin piped up. "Who's to say that if he's willing to leave a job so quickly after getting it that he wouldn't do the same to us if he got a better job offer?"

"Looks pretty bad," Nappa agreed.

"Only six months experience total, loyalty issues, stupid hair, thinks technology is the only way to do anything and doesn't like patrols." Bulma counted each strike against the candidate on her fingers. "And he wouldn't take off his ugly trucker hat for a job interview. I'm not hiring that."

Jaco shrugged. "I didn't think it was _that_ ugly."

~~~

Bulma looked from the resume on the table to the purple-haired young woman across from her. "So I'd just like to clear something up," she said. "Your resume says you worked at the Pat-Pat Strip Club for five years, but it's a little fuzzy on what you actually _did_."

Ranfan smiled prettily. "Oh, that. See, I did a couple of jobs at the Pat-Pat. I was a performer half the time, and the other half I was one of the bouncers."

"I see." Bulma pretended not to notice Nappa's eyes practically falling out of his head, knowing he was trying to picture this tiny slip of a woman being a bouncer. "How was that?"

She shrugged. "They were good to me there. The girls were like family, we had pretty good patrons most of the time, and the management made sure we were in charge of what we did and didn't want to do." A gleam came to her eye. "And I'm not going to lie--there's something to be said for tossing a rude patron out on his rear."

Krillin laughed and nodded, and Bulma smiled. "I'd second that. So why did you leave the Pat-Pat? Your resume says you stopped working there about a year ago?"

"Oh, that." Ranfan looked uncomfortable for the first time since she'd stepped foot into the room. If nothing else, she was a woman of great confidence. "I was a little too, ah, _forceful_ with one of our handsier patrons and asked to leave." She smiled again, hands folded in her lap, and Bulma couldn't help but give her arms a once-over. They were wiry, but when Ranfan shifted it was clear there was muscle there. Well, she wouldn't have a problem with the more physical aspects of the job, that was for sure.

~~~

"Okay, so." Krillin bounced his leg. "Did that guy remind you of anyone else?"

"Lazurite," Bulma and Jaco chorused.

"I know!" Krillin slammed a hand on the table. "He was _huge_ but also, like, this really big sweetheart! I didn't know there were so many guys like that in the world!"

Nappa frowned, looking at his notes. "Really? I don't see it."

"Well, I mean they aren't twins or anything." Krillin shrugged. "Lazurite looks like he could bench press the building, and this Eighter guy looks like Frankenstein." Jaco cleared his throat and Krillin rolled his eyes. "Frankenstein's _monster_ , there, are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Anyway, they're both built like tanks but they're also really kind." He shrugged again. "I mean, not that we should hire Eighter because of that--personally, I think he's _too_ kind and wouldn't be able to bring himself to carry out some of his duties."

"Sort of the opposite of Ranfan," Bulma said. She glanced over her notes. "He might be too gentle to do some of the tougher stuff; she might be too rough for the patrons to handle."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Nappa said, pulling out a fresh interview sheet. "There's still lots more candidates to go."

~~~

Bulma rested her head on the table, covering it with her arms. "It was going so _well_ ," she whined.

"There, there." Jaco patted her condescendingly on the back. "It could've been worse."

"How?!"

"I don't get it." Krillin had his arms folded, frowning at the door that Nappa and Goku had just wrestled their most recent applicant out of. "What happened? He was fine for most of the interview, and then Goku opened the door and he just...lost it."

"No idea." Jaco propped his chin on his hand. "Maybe Goku looks like someone he knows?"

"Maybe he hates being interrupted?"

"Maybe he's met Goku before and hates him for some reason."

"Maybe he--"

"Okay, that's not important right now," Bulma interrupted, hauling herself upright. "The important thing is: Broly's gone, and we're not hiring him. Not if there's a possibility that all that--" she gestured at the door, indicating the near-explosive scene that had just taken place-- "could be a recurring event."

Krillin nodded and glanced at the door again. "You think Goku and Nappa are handling him alright?"

She waved him off. "I'm sure they're fine."

~~~

Nappa nursed his bruised hand and struggled to pay attention to the interviewee. She was more relaxed than everyone else in the room, arms folded behind her head and an easy smirk on her face. To be fair, though, she hadn't just had a run in with a muscleman that would give Lazurite a run for his money. Nappa's hand still smarted where he'd tried to grab him and got blocked. A block shouldn't bruise, and yet here Nappa was.

"So, a hypothetical situation," Bulma was saying. "Someone with a lifelong ban from the library premises has been seen by a staff member skulking around the area. You haven't seen him yourself, but one day you see him on one of the security cameras. It'll take you at least six minutes to get to him from the security office. Your partner would take half the time to get there, but they're on break. What do you do?"

"Easy." Zangya grinned, flipping her puffy orange hair over one shoulder. "I race up to where I saw him, find him, and deck him."

Nappa grinned. Oh, this one he liked.

~~~

Krillin was on his feet and beaming as soon as Jaco led the candidate into the office. "Upa! I wondered if it was you when I saw the name!"

The tall man's beady eyes widened in surprise and recognition. "Krillin? I didn't realise you worked here." He smiled and moved to shake hands. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know. Getting by. How've you been? Your dad was here earlier."

Upa blinked. "Really? For a job interview? He didn't say anything to me about it. I heard about the job from Goku."

"Have a seat, guys; you can catch up after." Bulma held out her hand to shake Upa's. "Bulma Briefs, CEO. Sorry I can't stand to shake your hand. Kinda pregnant."

"That's alright." Upa shook her hand, then Nappa's, and sat in the chair offered to him. "Thank you for having me."

"Oh, hey, not a problem. Thanks for coming in." Bulma glanced at Upa's resume. "You've got a lot of experience for someone so young."

"W-well." Upa blushed, but to his credit did his best to maintain eye contact. "I've been doing freelance security work pretty much since I finished high school, so that's..." His eyes flicked away as he did a quick calculation. "About eight or nine years? Give or take."

"Out of curiosity, how do you two know each other?" Bulma asked.

"Goku." Krillin tapped his pen against the sheet in front of him. "He brought Upa to a karate class at Turtle School one time back when we were kids."

"Son Gohan was friends with my father," Upa explained, "and so Goku and I were also friends." He smiled wryly at Krillin. "You had a crush on me for a while, there, too."

Krillin's face scrunched up and went red, Jaco bursting into laughter beside him. "That's not my fault! I was twelve and I thought you were a girl!"

For a brief moment, Bulma considered hiring the kid on the spot just so she could tease Krillin about the whole incident for years to come, but decided it would be a better idea to actually hold the interview first.

~~~

"Well, I'm glad _that's_ over with," Jaco moaned, dropping his head into his arms. "Can I go yet?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, gathering up her notes. "Nope. We still have to figure out who we're actually going to hire." Ignoring Jaco's overdramatic wailing, she turned to the other two men. "So. Any thoughts?"

"I'd say Upa," Krillin said immediately, "but I'll be the first to admit I'm biased."

Nappa grinned. "Yeah, 'cause you had a _crush_ on him--"

"Because he's my _friend_!" Krillin snapped. "Other than him, I'd say Celipa. They were both experienced and they answered the hypothetical questions well. And Upa's references were _really_ good."

"I'm thinking Bora and Ranfan, myself," Nappa said.

Krillin twisted to look up at him. "Bora? Really? Upa's dad?"

"Is Bora Upa's dad? Didn't know that."

"I said his dad had been in here earlier! Did you not see the family resemblance?"

"I wasn't looking for it!"

"Children, behave." Bulma folded her arms, still ignoring Jaco. "Nappa, why would you pick those two?"

"Bora has a ton of experience. A look at his resume would tell you that." Nappa shrugged. "He's a professional. You can tell just by looking at him. Sure, he's getting older, but that's why you pair him up with someone younger, like Ranfan. She can handle the rougher parts of the job that he has trouble with these days."

Krillin smirked. "You just want to ask Ranfan out."

Nappa folded his arms. "She's too young for me. Raditz, on the other hand, now _him_ I could see asking her out."

"You should do it anyway."

"Conflict of interest. Not that it seems to have stopped _you_."

"I _told_ you--"

"Boys, if you can't get along, I'm putting you in timeout." Bulma looked over at Jaco, who was still pouting with all the melodrama of an ignored toddler. "What about you, Jaco? What do you think?"

"I think I want to go home."

"Not until you answer the question seriously, you goon." She nudged his knee with her foot. "Come on, you're usually so opinionated. You've gotta have _some_ ideas."

Jaco groaned and sat up, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling for a few moments. "I don't know. Broly and the guy with the trucker hat."

Bulma's eye twitched. "And why would you pick them?"

His head rolled to the side to grin at her. "You'd hate it."

She shoved his chair and he went spinning across the room, giggling. "I hate you so much."

"No you don't."

"Alright, alright, out, you three." Bulma gathered up the papers. "I think I've made my decision."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who sent in suggestions! (I'm going by people's Tumblr username for this list, so if your username for AO3 is different from your Tumblr username let me know and I'll change it!)
> 
>   * Upa (TiedyedTrickster, soma1791)
>   * Turles (BringingYaoiBack, z-paladin)
>   * Salza (BringingYaoiBack)
>   * Celipa (BringingYaoiBack)
>   * Bora (godzillahomer, soma1791)
>   * Tournament Announcer (anonymous)
>   * Future Trunks (anonymous)
>   * Pikkon (iamfuturepixels, anonymous)
>   * Shugesh (anonymous)
>   * Borgos (anonymous)
>   * Yajirobe (iamfuturepixels)
>   * Ranfan (iamfuturepixels, anonymous)
>   * Eighter (pickleandthequeen)
>   * Android 13 (z-paladin)
>   * Zangya (anonymous)
>   * Broly (IT WAS ME, DIO)
> 

> 
> As for who the new staff members will be...FIND OUT NEXT TIME, ON PUBLIC LIBRARY Z! (I'm a terrible person for dragging this out I'm so sorry)


	24. Orientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new staff members need to be shown around, and paperwork needs to be filled out. Vegeta couldn't care less about the new security staff, but the new Human Resources manager, on the other hand...he might pose a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book referenced in this chapter is _Night of the Tiger_ by Doranna Durgin.

"And we'll need your initials here, and signature here."

Bulma sighed and scrawled them out as quickly as she could. "You City Hall folks sure love your paperwork," she muttered.

The man Frieza had brought with him this time laughed. Bulma had immediately forgotten his name as soon as they were introduced, but he at least seemed to have more of a sense of humor than the last two men who had accompanied Frieza. "Well, transferring an employee is a long process! Wouldn't want something to go wrong and have one of my boys suddenly in the wrong job."

"Your boys." Bulma blinked. Right, this guy was the head of Human Resources over at City Hall. "You're right, wouldn't want that. Are we almost done here, Mr. Frieza? I still have a bunch of forms to draw up for the new security guards, too."

Frieza chuckled and an uneasy shiver went down Bulma's spine. She was glad she'd told Vegeta he could sit in on the meeting this time--knowing he was at her back was at least a little encouraging, even if all he'd done so far was stand behind her with his arms folded, glaring daggers at the mayor. "Oh, Dr. Briefs," Frieza said, more than a little condescendingly. (At least he'd used her proper title, unlike his subordinates from the previous week.) "This isn't even my final form!"

"Seriously?" There might have been a little bit of a whine creeping into Bulma's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "How many more are there?"

"Four total. This is the second, so there are two more after this."

She scowled. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

"I think you'll find my subordinate to be an excellent employee," the man next to Frieza said. Bulma glanced at him in between scanning the forms to make sure she wasn't actually signing her soul away. She wouldn't put it past Frieza. "He's punctual, cheerful, easily builds camaraderie, not bad to look at if you're into that sort of thing--"

"If he's so great, Ginyu," Vegeta interrupted, "why are you giving him up so easily?"

Ginyu. That was his name. Bulma was glad Vegeta remembered it; she would've felt ridiculous having to ask.

He smiled at Vegeta, thin and knife-sharp. "Mr. Frieza asked if our office could spare anyone, and he volunteered for the position." Ginyu sighed dramatically. "I must say, I'll be sad to see him go, but I know he'll come back to visit often, and the boys and I will probably be by to visit him just as much."

Bulma's grip on her pen tightened, but that was the only outward sign she gave of her emotions. Of course. She'd known Frieza was planting one of his employees in the library as an excuse to keep a closer eye on them, on whether they really _needed_ that budget increase, on how tight a ship she was actually running. But apparently she was getting not only a spy, but a spy with more spies attached.

What a terrible time to go on maternity leave.

"Well, your employee will be in good hands here." She did her best to smile at Ginyu, but it felt fake and plastic on her face and she was sure it looked even worse. "He'll actually be starting on the same day as our new security guards, so it's not like he'll be the only new face, either."

Ginyu's smile for her looked more genuine than the one he'd given Vegeta. "I'll tell him. I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Bulma nodded at him, then turned back to Frieza. "Alright, let's get this over with. Bring on the next form."

~~~

Upa tugged at the collar of his uniform. Truth be told, it had been some time since he'd needed to wear a uniform--he hadn't had any freelance security work in a couple of months. Landing this library job was a blessing. With luck, he'd be able to move into a new, better apartment within a year.

His father stood next to him, stoic as always and yet radiating pride. It would be the first job they'd worked together since Upa started in what Bora jokingly called the "family business." He couldn't be more excited. It would also probably be their last job together--while it was a step up in his career for Upa (a full-time, permanent position for the first time _ever_ ), it was actually a downgrade for Bora. He'd worked nearly 35 years as security for the same location, but now that he was older he needed something more...simple. And Bulma had assured them that while their services were definitely necessary, hopefully they wouldn't be _too_ necessary. "No offense," she'd said, "but I really hope you guys aren't too busy on the job."

On Upa's other side was a man he'd never met before. Bulma had introduced him as "the new HR guy, came over from City Hall," but Upa hadn't caught his name. He was just as tall and stocky as Bora, though Upa had a hard time taking him seriously as an office worker with that kind of haircut. He found himself staring at his hair--red and puffy, but none on the sides of his head. He looked...scruffy. And kind of stupid.

The man glanced down at him and Upa quickly pretended he hadn't been looking.

Sitting at the desk was a tall, slim man wearing a turban. He offered them a small, gentle smile. "Sorry about the wait. Krillin's in a meeting." He frowned. "I don't know what's keeping Jaco, though. Probably paperwork."

Deciding it couldn't hurt to be friendly, Upa reached forward to shake hands. "I'm Upa."

The man looked startled, but took the offered hand. "Namu. Good to meet you."

Upa started to ask how long Namu had worked at the library (starting a job off with a good rapport with your coworkers was always a good idea), but at that moment Jaco came dashing around the corner, papers clutched to his chest and scattering behind him. "I'm not late," he declared loudly, snatching up some of the scattered forms. When Namu glared at him, he shrugged. "According to my watch, it's only 8:58. I still have two minutes to spare."

"According to mine, you're a minute and a half behind," Namu said. "Krillin's in a meeting. What's your excuse?"

Jaco held up the stack of papers. "Union stuff. We didn't have any copies of the new forms from the last negotiations." He turned to the three men in front of the desk and winked. "Congratulations, you get to start at a slightly higher salary than previously negotiated."

Upa's eyes brightened. Before he could say anything, the door behind the desk opened and Krillin scurried out. "Sorry, so sorry," he apologised. Behind him, two men Upa didn't know slipped out the door. One was tall, bald, and grouchy-looking, the other less tall with long black hair hanging loose down his back. The bald one barely spared the three men a glance before stalking purposefully towards the stairs. The other man smiled, gave them a thumbs up, and headed off towards the desk opposite the Readers' Advisory desk. "Emergency meeting. Everything's fine, just an annoying patron that the three of us have been dealing with."

The man Upa didn't know spoke up for the first time. "Should I deal with him?"

Krillin immediately looked uncomfortable. "Oh, no, don't worry, it's not a problem for Human Resources yet. If it becomes one, we'll let you know, um..." He frowned. "We haven't actually met, right? I'm Krillin; I'm the supervisor in charge of Readers' Advisory." He held out a hand for the massive man to shake. Upa glanced between them. It was quite the sight: Krillin, who barely came up to Upa's waist, shaking hands with a man who towered over everyone else.

"Recoome's the name." Recoome's hand dwarfed Krillin's. "Ginyu said you guys needed somebody, so I thought 'why not!'"

"Oh." Krillin tried for a smile. It didn't work. Upa sympathized. "That's...great. So, Jaco and I were going to start off with a quick tour of the library before we get down to paperwork and union stuff. Sound good?"

Upa nodded enthusiastically. Bora gave a silent nod of consent. Recoome let out a big belly laugh. "Sounds great! Lead the way!"

~~~

Krillin winced every time Recoome took a step behind him. God, it was like he couldn't even _walk_ quietly. He knew they were in a _library_ , right? A place of quiet study and learning? What kind of work environment had he had at City Hall that made him think his boisterous behaviour was workplace appropriate?

Or had Frieza and Ginyu just told him to be as loud as possible? He wouldn't put it past Frieza--no one liked him, and even fewer trusted him.

There wasn't exactly a lot Krillin could do about Recoome. So he did his best to ignore him and focus on the positives--Upa and Bora. He was glad Bulma had taken his recommendation into consideration. Upa would be a great addition to the staff--he'd always been sweet, but tough. Bora, on the other hand, was tough but sweet, or at least he had been when they were kids. Maybe he'd mellowed out with time and age. Either way, he could say with certainty that the security staff Bulma had hired were going to do a good job.

"These are the children's stacks," Jaco was saying as they walked between half-height bookshelves. "Young adult books are on the opposite side there." He pointed, then turned his attention towards the desk they were approaching. Pilaf was leaning on it, chatting with Mai. "Pilaf, don't you have somewhere to be?" Jaco asked. His voice was clipped and formal, radiating disdain.

Pilaf glared up at him, adjusting the red and yellow hat he never seemed to be without. "Yamcha asked me to pick something up."

"Well, get it and get back to work." Grumbling, Pilaf gathered up a stack of papers and disappeared with a wave to Mai. "Mai, don't encourage him," Jaco scolded. She scowled at him and stood, walking off into the stacks. "You'll probably get a lot of complaints about those two," Jaco told Recoome. "Them and Shu from Circulation. They're always getting distracted and spending half their shift gossiping instead of working."

"I'll keep it in mind," Recoome said, hands on his hips.

Piccolo stuck his head out of the office. "Oh, it's you." He didn't sound impressed, or anything else really--just sort of blank. Piccolo sounded like that a lot. "Where's Mai?"

Upa pointed. "She went that way."

Piccolo rolled his eyes. "Great. Probably rearranging the picture books again."

Introductions were quickly made and Piccolo disappeared into the office again. "So next," Jaco said, heading towards a door marked STAFF ONLY, "is the basement."

~~~

Vegeta glared after the group as they left. "This is just great," he muttered. "First Cell, now Recoome. Fan-fucking-tastic."

Raditz glanced over from his workstation. "He didn't seem that bad. Loud, sure, but at least he wasn't creepy like Cell was."

Vegeta sneered at him. "Of course _you'd_ think that. You don't know City Hall like I do."

"Like _we_ do," Nappa corrected. He never once looked up from his work as he talked, typing away and yet still holding a full conversation. Vegeta sometimes wondered where he'd picked that skill up--he certainly hadn't honed it when they worked for Frieza. "Cell was a problem because he was a creepy stalker who kidnapped someone _on shift_ and locked them in a broom closet and, according to Lazurite, had a previous history of being gross and disturbing." Vegeta frowned. According to Lazurite? Since when were Nappa and Lazurite all buddy-buddy? "Recoome, on the other hand," Nappa continued, "is a problem because he's a spy, and considering he was one of the Ginyus..." He shrugged, trailing off. "He probably comes with more spies attached."

"A what?" Raditz looked confused. "What's a Ginyu?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "You were in the Cold Empire too; don't you remember this shit?"

Raditz glared at him. "I was kicked out when my parents died when I was _seven years old_ , Vegeta. Seven. Forgive me if I don't remember everything about the gang my parents were in."

"Vegeta." Nappa's tone held a warning.

"Fine." Vegeta folded his arms and fixed Raditz with a stare. "The Ginyu Force, also just known as the Ginyus, was an elite group of special operatives within Frieza's branch of the Cold Empire."

Raditz's mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "The Ginyu Force? What, were they Power Rangers? Power Rangers: Ginyu Force!"

"Don't let Recoome hear you say that," Nappa warned. "The last time someone compared them to Power Rangers--actually, I think it was Super Sentai." He glanced at Vegeta. "Was it Power Rangers or Super Sentai?"

"Who cares?"

"Anyway, last time someone made that comparison they had their teeth kicked in. Like, literally kicked. Recoome has strong legs." He shook his head, still typing. "Point is, don't do that."

"Noted." Raditz looked vaguely disturbed. "Why Ginyu though? Does that mean something?"

"Ginyu was the name of their leader," Vegeta explained. "Or at least that's what everyone called him. He was a master of disguise, and no one knew if that was his real name or not. When Frieza became mayor, he took a lot of people from the Empire with him. That included his bodyguards, Zarbon and Dodoria, a bunch of underlings I don't know or care about, and the Ginyus." He blew a strand of hair out of his face. "From what I can tell, the Ginyus took over HR at City Hall. They were always a tight-knit group, never far from each other. And because Recoome, one of the members of the Ginyu Force, is here now, they're going to use that closeness as a weapon--an excuse to spy on the library's operations from the inside while posing as staff and friends of staff."

Raditz propped his chin on his hand. "Huh. Corporate espionage. Never thought I'd see Frieza deal with that shit--I always figured him for a 'murder anyone who gets in your way' type of guy."

Vegeta snorted. "For once, Raditz, I agree with you on something."

Raditz shrugged and went back to his work. "Let's talk about something else. Like Nappa." Nappa leaned around his monitor, confused. "Someone has a date tonight," Raditz sing-songed.

To Vegeta's shock, Nappa turned red and disappeared behind his computer screen, declining to comment. "I didn't hear anything about this date."

"They met at the security guard interviews last week," Raditz said confidently, slapping a spine label on a copy of _Night of the Tiger_. "What's her name?"

"Ranfan," Nappa muttered, caught. "We're going out for dinner."

Glad that the topic had moved on from something far less annoying, and always open to the opportunity to make fun of someone else's love life, Vegeta pounced on the new topic with glee. "Can't wait to hear how she dumps you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY MANAGED A FINAL FORM JOKE I AM SO PROUD OF MYSELF


	25. Wait For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chi-Chi needs a favour sometime in the next nine months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing too much sad lately have some cute instead.

"So Pa, I hate to ask you a favour, but I need one."

Gyumao blinked owlishly at her from over the rim of his teacup. Chi-Chi had always found that her father painted quite the funny picture--an enormous hulk of a man, rumored to have ties to gangs from back in the day, whose hobbies included baking tiny sweets and spoiling his grandson. "Sure, Chi-Chi; you know you can ask your pa for favours anytime. What do you need?"

"Well, it's a big favour, is all." Chi-Chi tapped a fingernail against the table. She'd asked him to do it once before, for pretty much the same reason as she needed him to do it again, but she still felt bad asking. Although, she reminded herself, the last time she'd asked him for this particular favour was six years ago. And he hadn't minded then. Why should he mind now? Especially since--

"Is everything okay?" Gyumao's face was the picture of concern. "Are you and Goku having financial troubles? Is the cafe in trouble? Did you have to fire that Maza girl? Is Gohan okay?"

"Pa, everything's fine." She reached out and patted his hand in comfort. "Don't worry about that; that stuff's all under control. The favour I need is..." Chi-Chi took a deep breath. Now or never, she supposed. "I need someone to take over the cafe for a few months, and I was hoping you could do it."

"Oh." The tension drained out of Gyumao's shoulders and he smiled at her. "Of course! No problem! Sure! Geez, with how hesitant you were being I thought something was wrong!"

She laughed. "No, Pa, everything's great! Couldn't be better!" Her stomach made a weird sound and she grimaced, laying a hand on her belly. Her stomach problems weren't going to get any better for a long time, she knew that, and she'd made her peace with it. It wasn't hard to, knowing what the end result was going to be. Chi-Chi took a slow, small sip of tea. Mint tea was good for nausea.

"So when do you need me to do this?" Gyumao had his phone out, no doubt with the calendar app open, stabbing at it with a meaty thumb. "Next week? I can be ready next week."

"Gosh, no!" She laughed. "Not for another six months or so!"

He beamed. "Well that's alright then! Six months from now, let's see, that's...around January or so...and for how long? Two months? Three?"

"Closer to three, I guess." She frowned. "I hope we can handle the loss of income for that long."

Gyumao put his phone down and took another drink. "So what's the occasion? You and Goku going on a trip?"

"For three months? I hardly think we could afford that!" Chi-Chi laughed. "I'm just glad I thought to ask you this early."

He nodded, eyes distant for a moment. "Right, when Gohan was born you were scrambling to find someone to run the place at the last minute." Gyumao laughed. "What a rush job that was, eh? I mean, I'm a damn good cook, but I don't know much about running a restaurant! And all I wanted to do for most of that time was check up on you and your...baby..."

Gyumao trailed off, blinking. Chi-Chi sat patiently, waiting. She'd put all the clues out for him, now he just had to notice.

He grabbed her tiny hand in both of his massive ones, looking down at her with wide eyes. "Are you having another baby?!"

She smiled in response and he burst into tears even as a grin split his face.


	26. Meet My Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few snippets from the love lives of Krillin and Lazuli.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slams hands on table* I LOVE ROBO COP SO MUCH YOU GUYS LIKE WOW
> 
> This was originally going to be more about Lazuli actually meeting the Sons, hence the title, but then it ended up being about the two of them instead. *shrugs forever*

"Lazuli," Krillin said, "do you want to go for dinner sometime?"

He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment before hanging his head. This was ridiculous. He couldn't do this. Lazuli was way out of his league--tall, blonde, and gorgeous, effortlessly intelligent, cool and closed off. There was no way she'd ever go out with a bald, noseless shrimp like him. Not to mention the fact that if he so much as tried to talk to her, her brother would probably kill him.

Krillin struggled to regain the confidence he'd felt an hour ago when he decided he was finally going to ask Lazuli out. It was difficult. Every time he called her up for professional purposes, he felt like an idiot with every word he spoke, and he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe he really was doomed to be alone forever like Namu said.

No. He would do this. And when she rejected him, he'd at least have his feelings off his chest. If nothing else, he could be free of those.

~~~

"I have to leave," Krillin said abruptly, slamming down the receiver. "Right now. Immediately."

Namu raised an eyebrow at him. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I don't care. Anywhere that's not here." Krillin was shaking and sick to his stomach. He'd done it. He'd asked her out. And she was on her way to the desk right now.

The IT department was in the basement, and the Readers Advisory desk was on the second floor. Assuming Lazuli didn't sprint the whole way (and Krillin had never seen her hurry anywhere), he figured he had a good few minutes before she reached him and murdered him for daring to think he had a shot.

"Is everything alright?" Namu looked worried--apparently his anxiety was catching. "You were fine just a moment ago--"

" _Lazuli's coming and she's going to kill me!_ " Krillin slapped his hand over his mouth at his own outburst. A few patrons (and Yamcha, from across the room) glared at him. "I asked her out and she's mad about it and she's going to _kill me_ ," he whispered.

The concern dropped off Namu's face instantly, replaced with mild annoyance. "Is that all."

"What do you _mean_ , 'is that all?' I'm going to _die_ , Namu. You're going to have a new boss in about thirty seconds because I'll be dead."

"Well that's a little overdramatic."

Krillin flinched. Lazuli was leaning on the desk, a small, amused smile on her face. "It'd be tragic if you died before we even went on one date," she added.

He froze. "P-pardon?"

Namu patted Krillin's shoulder on his way past. "I'll leave you to it," he said, disappearing into the back office.

Lazuli came around the desk to stand in front of Krillin. He swallowed, staring wide-eyed up at her. "Y-you're not mad?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Why would I be? It was sweet of you to ask."

"Because I..." Krillin looked away. "I mean, I'm not that attractive, or interesting, or anything, so..."

"Oh, please." Lazuli flipped her hair over her shoulder. "How shallow do you think I am? Besides, you're cute, and I think _I'll_ be the judge of whether or not you're interesting."

He blinked. "You think I'm cute?"

Lazuli laughed. "I'm done work at six. Pick me up then and we'll go for drinks." She leaned down and he willed himself not to flinch away.

When her lips brushed his cheek, he just about died after all.

~~~

"So Krillin, when do Chi-Chi and I get to meet your girlfriend?"

Krillin squirmed uncomfortably. Even Yamcha and Tien had turned to look at him, the baseball game completely forgotten. "Uh, well, we've only been going out for a couple of months--"

"But everyone's met her except for me," Goku whined. "Even Chi-Chi's met her at the cafe before!"

He scowled. It wasn't _his_ fault he had a workplace romance and that Goku was the only one of his friends who he didn't work with. "What do you want me to do, tell her I'm bringing her to meet my family and then show up at your place?!"

"Well, yeah."

Krillin sputtered. "Goku, you know we're not _actually_ brothers, right?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It sort of does!" Krillin shook his head. "I promise you'll meet her soon."

"Bring her over to our house. Chi-Chi can make us all dinner; it'll be great."

"Don't you think you should _ask_ your wife first?"

~~~

"So, Lazuli."

Lazuli looked down at her boyfriend. It was still a little weird being the tall one in the relationship. But he fit so well in her arms, especially when they were together on the couch like this, his back against her stomach, legs tangled together, her chin resting on his head. "Yeah?"

He squirmed in her arms. "Y-you, uh. Are you doing anything this weekend?"

"Don't think so." She turned her head to press her cheek to his head instead. "Why?"

"Do you want to meet some of my family?"

She blinked. "I thought you said you didn't really have much family."

"I don't. But I have Goku, and he counts, I guess. I just..." He swallowed. "You're really important to me, and so's Goku, and...I want you two to meet each other. If you don't want to that's--"

"Krillin, calm down." He got like this sometimes. There were still times when he was in shock that they were dating. It had been several months now, and every time she made sure to remind him that she wanted this relationship to work just as much as he did. "If it's that important to you, I'll definitely go."

He relaxed against her. "Thank you."

Lazuli pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Dork."

~~~

She'd never been in the Ox Cafe after it closed. It was right next to the library, so of course most of the staff would go there on their breaks rather than deal with their antiquated coffeemaker in the staff room. But the place closed at six in the evening, and Lazuli didn't really know the owners, so she'd never been there afterwards.

According to Krillin, however, Goku's wife was the woman who ran the place, and they lived in the apartment upstairs. It was a little weird being in the cafe after closing--surreal, somehow, the same way that being in the library right before it opened was. But that was where they were apparently going for dinner.

Krillin led the way confidently up the stairs. "Don't worry, Goku's family is pretty laid-back," he said, opening the door separating the cafe from the apartment.

"Uncle Krillin!" A small child barrelled into Krillin's waist and he stumbled backwards into Lazuli. The boy beamed up at Krillin. "You're here!"

"'Course I'm here. Didn't your dad tell you we were coming?" Krillin chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair.

He seemed to notice Lazuli for the first time and immediately turned shy. "H-hello." He tugged at his overalls. "Who're you?"

Lazuli smiled at him. "I'm Lazuli. You must be Gohan. Uncle Krillin's told me a lot about you."

Gohan looked between her and Krillin. "Are you married?"

Krillin blushed and Lazuli laughed. Before either of them could answer him, Gohan had turned and bounded off into the apartment. "Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Krillin and Aunt Lazuli are here!"

Now it was Lazuli's turn to blush. Aunt Lazuli? They weren't _that_ far into the relationship yet. They hadn't even--

"Sorry," Krillin said, stepping into the apartment. She followed, still a little bewildered. "Gohan got engaged about a month ago and now he's all over marriage as a concept."

Lazuli blinked at him. "Engaged? He's, like, four."

"Six, actually. Don't ask; apparently it's a long story and Chi-Chi doesn't like to talk about it."

"Oh." Lazuli wrapped her arms around herself. "Alright." This was...more awkward than she'd thought it would be. Sure, she knew Chi-Chi, sort of, and of course Krillin was with her. Other than that, though, she was pretty out of her depth.

"Hey." Krillin took one of her hands. "It's okay. Like I said, the Sons are a laid-back family. You don't have anything to worry about."

One day, she would tell him that having him around always helped calm her down. That he always managed to bring her up when she was down. That wrapping herself around him felt like being wrapped up in a blanket herself. That the confidence they gave each other was a two-way street, and she wasn't sure she could live without it--without _him_ \--anymore.

One day.

For now, she smiled and bent over to kiss his cheek. "If you say so."


	27. Meet My Family Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku has something to say to Krillin's new girlfriend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a shovel talk in this one, if that's something that makes you uncomfortable. But mostly K18 and Son family shenanigans.

"I've seen you at the cafe before, haven't I?" Chi-Chi handed Lazuli a mug of tea, smiling, before turning back to the stove. "I always figured you worked at the library, but I wasn't sure. Didn't know you were the girl Krillin was sweet on!"

"Chi-Chi," Krillin grumbled, trying to hide his blushing face behind the steam from his tea. "You're embarrassing me."

"Sorry, sorry," she laughed. She shot a wink over her shoulder at Lazuli. "It's not that hard to do, you know?"

Lazuli shook her head. "It's really not. He lights up faster than Times Square."

That earned her a laugh from Chi-Chi and frustrated sputtering from Krillin. Lazuli smiled and blew on her tea. This wasn't too bad so far. The tea was nice. Listening to Krillin chat with his friends was calming. Gohan was still a little apprehensive of her, peeking in from the other room every so often, but Chi-Chi said that was normal for him. "He's shy," she'd said, "especially around new people. Trust me, by the end of the night you won't be able to get rid of him."

Yes, things were going just fine. Except for one thing.

"Goku!" Chi-Chi swatted her husband's hand as he tried to reach across the counter to grab a bite-sized quiche. "They're not ready yet!"

"Sure they are!" Goku pouted at her. "They're out of the oven, aren't they?"

She waved her spatula at him. "I have to plate everything. Can't have you hogging all the appetizers before anyone else gets a chance!" Chi-Chi caught Lazuli's eye and shook her head. "Men, you know?"

Lazuli smiled weakly back at her before moving to stand next to Krillin again. Goku worried her. She couldn't put her finger on what it was that bothered her--maybe it was his resemblance to Raditz, who she'd never liked. Maybe it was because, according to Krillin, he was the one who'd pushed to meet her in the first place. Why would a total stranger be so insistent on meeting her? It was suspicious. (So maybe she was being a little paranoid. After Cell, she didn't think anyone could really blame her.)

Whatever the reason, Goku made her nervous. She didn't like him.

Krillin's hand found hers and squeezed. Lazuli glanced down at him and saw he was giving her a reassuring smile. She took a breath and tried to relax, squeezing his hand back. This was going to be alright. Weird, but alright.

~~~

"Aunt Lazuli, how come I don't see you at the library?"

Lazuli choked on her curry. "I-I--you can just call me Lazuli."

Gohan blinked up at her from across the table. "But you're Uncle Krillin's wife, right? So you're my aunt! How come I didn't get to go to your wedding?"

"They're not married, Gohan." Chi-Chi reached over and wiped her son's face with a napkin. "They're just dating."

"Oh." Gohan looked thoughtful. "Like Mr. Piccolo and Dende's cousin?"

Lazuli's eyebrows shot up. "Piccolo has a girlfriend?" She glanced at Krillin. From the look on his face, she was guessing it was news to him, too.

"Nope! Boyfriend," Gohan said confidently. "I saw them in the poetry section when Dende's cousin asked Mr. Piccolo out! They're in love and they're going to get married."

"Piccolo's got a boyfriend?" Goku said. "Huh." He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Guess I'd better ask him about it next time I see him."

"You know he doesn't like you, right?" Krillin asked.

Goku shrugged and shovelled more food into his mouth.

"Anyway," Chi-Chi said, "Lazuli, what department do you work in again? I know you've told me before but I can never remember."

~~~

Krillin squeezed her hand. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Lazuli tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and looked steadily at the wall over Krillin's head. "They're a little overwhelming, that's all."

He laughed nervously. "I know they're kind of loud, but they're a good family. Did I tell you how Goku and I met?"

"You were rivals at your martial arts school as kids." She looked down at him and saw him beaming, glad that she'd remembered, and she couldn't help but smile back. "I can believe it. Neither of you seems like the kind of guy who'd back down easily."

"Well, yeah," Krillin admitted. "But Goku's kind of...well, he's great, but he's not all that perceptive sometimes. He thought I wanted to be friends." Lazuli laughed. "I know! He was so shocked when I told him I'd thought of us as enemies for a long time after we'd grown up." He squeezed her hand again. "Look, the point is, they're a bit loud and crazy, but they're good people. You don't need to be nervous around them."

"I'm not nervous." Well, maybe she was a little unnerved by Goku, but that wasn't the same thing. "I'm just kind of overwhelmed. I'll stay in here by myself for a few more minutes and I'll be fine, if that's okay."

"Sure." Krillin tugged and she leaned down so he could kiss her, softly, gently. "Come join us whenever you're ready." He disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving Lazuli alone in the living room.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. The night had gone well so far. Gohan had warmed up to her quickly (although he still insisted on calling her Aunt Lazuli). Chi-Chi had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her since she'd arrived, and Lazuli was glad for it. She'd really helped put her at ease. It was really just Goku she was having trouble with, and she couldn't place her finger on why.

Originally, she'd thought it was just because he reminded her of Raditz, but she honestly didn't care about Raditz all that much, so that shouldn't be it. He wasn't too annoying or weird and he certainly didn't creep her out like Cell had. But there was still something about him that set her teeth on edge.

Actually, if she thought about it, it was probably just the fact that he was Krillin's best friend. Ever since Krillin had asked her to meet him, she'd felt this heavy cloud of pressure over her chest, the feeling of needing to impress. She felt like she _had_ to have Krillin's best friend like her. If he didn't, she'd feel guilty for taking Krillin away from his friends.

Lazuli frowned. That wasn't fair, to her, or Krillin, or Goku. Nobody else was putting that pressure on her. It was just her. But she couldn't really _stop_ herself from feeling that way. She squared her shoulders. She'd just have to make the best impression she could, that was all.

"Hi there!"

Lazuli flinched. She hadn't even heard Goku come into the room. "Hello." She turned to look up at him, trying to keep her face neutral so he wouldn't guess she'd just been thinking about him. No, wait, she wanted him to like her. She tried to smile, but it wobbled. "Something wrong?"

He waved her off. "Nah, you've been in here for a while, so I figured I'd check on ya." Goku stuck a hand in his pocket and scratched at the back of his neck with the other. "You, uh. You okay?"

"Fine, thanks." Lazuli tried to look past him discreetly to see what was going on in the kitchen, but she couldn't see around him.

"That's good." Goku folded his arms and tilted his head. "Listen, there's something I've been meaning to say to you, and now's as good a time as any, I guess."

Oh no. Oh no, now was the time where he told her he thought she and Krillin weren't good for each other and demanded they break up, and then she'd yell at him, and Krillin would be mad at her for yelling at his best friend and break up with her anyway. No no no that was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid. "What?" She tossed her head and folded her arms right back, looking him square in the eyes. She would not back down from this. If this was what was coming, so be it. No one messed with Lazuli.

"Well, you know, Krillin's my best friend." Goku shrugged. "And he hasn't really had a lot of girlfriends before. I mean, there was this girl in college, and he had a crush on Upa when we were kids, but I don't think that really counts." Lazuli's eyebrows rose. Upa? The same Upa that worked as a security guard at the library now? She'd have to ask Krillin about that one later. "But yeah, you're the first really serious girlfriend he's ever had."

"Is there a point to this?" she asked coldly. She didn't want to stand here while Goku waffled about and beat around the bush. If he had a problem with her dating his friend, she wanted to get it out of the way now.

"I'm getting there, I swear!" Goku held up his hands defensively. "Look, I don't know you very well yet. But from what I can tell, Krillin really likes you. He talks about you all the time, and seeing him when he's with you tonight, he looks happier than I've seen him for a while."

Lazuli blinked, astonished. "Oh." This was completely not what she'd expected from this conversation.

"So I guess what I'm saying is this." Goku balled his hands into fists and put them on his hips, leaned forward, and squinted at her. "If you break his heart, or hurt him in any way, I _will_ find you, and I _will_ destroy you. Got that?"

Lazuli felt a smile cross her face. "Son Goku, I think we're on the same page."

He beamed at her and stood straight again. "Great! Okay, so come on out to the kitchen, yeah? Chi-Chi made cheesecake!"


	28. Totally Rad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raditz has a long and complicated family history, and he has come to terms with exactly zero of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Raditz I love you
> 
>  
> 
> ~~ALSO I am currently trying to decide whether to ship Raditz with Broly or Jeice or just slam my head on the table and scream "BOTH" please help me~~

"By the way, when was the last time you called home?" Kakarott asked, leaning over the back of the couch. He looked expectantly at his brother. "It's your mom's birthday soon, right?"

Raditz shifted where he sat on the end of the couch and folded his arms. "You know that woman isn't my mother."

"Ugh. Raditz, we've been _over_ this." Kakarott vaulted over the back of the couch and plopped down next to Raditz. "Em and Garnet are your parents. They're not your _blood_ parents, but they're still your parents. Grandpa wasn't my blood grandpa, either, but he was still Grandpa. So it's the same for you!"

Raditz glared at him. "You don't get it. You might not remember Mom and Dad, but _I do_. Garnet isn't my dad, and Emerald isn't my mom. My real parents were Bardock and Gine Konsai, and they were yours, too."

Kakarott threw up his hands. "Fine. I already believe you; you don't have to try and convince me we're brothers anymore. Chi-Chi got the blood work to prove it, anyway. But I mean...whether they're your "real" parents or not, shouldn't you call them sometimes anyway? I know if Grandpa was still around I'd be calling him all the time!"

"Don't you dare play that card with me," Raditz snapped. "Besides, if he was still around you really think you wouldn't have him at your house every day anyway? With how much time Gyumao spends over there I seriously doubt that."

"You're deflecting," Kakarott said. He crossed his legs under him and propped his chin on his hand, looking sideways at Raditz. "Why don't you want to call them? I mean, even if they're not really your parents, they still raised you and stuff. Don't you care about them at all?"

Raditz didn't answer. True, Garnet and Emerald (and later their second child, Alex) had always been good to him, even when he was...less good to them. But even so...

"Well, I guess it's up to you." Kakarott clapped a hand on Raditz's shoulder and hauled himself to his feet. "Are you still coming to babysit Gohan on Thursday night?"

Raditz waved him off. "Of course. See you then, Kakarott."

He waved over his shoulder and disappeared out the door, leaving Raditz alone in his rundown apartment again. Raditz flopped over on his side and stretched across the entire couch. Having his brother over was always good--it meant their relationship was on the mend, after all. Hell, just the fact that Kakarott let Raditz call him by his real name instead of Goku was a sign they were finally getting somewhere. But it was a little depressing that the only people who ever actually wanted to spend time with him were Kakarott and his kid. Even Kakarott's wife didn't like him much, and she made that clear whenever they saw each other. (That was fine. He wasn't exactly her biggest fan, either.) Nappa tried to include him in conversations and the like at work, which was nice, but Vegeta--well, he was Vegeta. Sometimes Raditz talked to Yamcha, but they didn't really see each other outside of work. (He _had_ been thinking about asking Yamcha out at one point, but Tien from Circulation beat him to the punch.)

Maybe he should talk to Emerald. Or at least Alex. He'd always gotten along with Alex fairly well, even if he hadn't communicated with them beyond liking their Facebook posts for a few months and replying "Not Sure" to her invite to Emerald's birthday party. He wasn't sure he could handle Garnet right now--his arguments with his adoptive father had always been the worst.

Raditz stared at his phone where it sat on the coffee table. It would be really easy to just pick it up and shoot Em a text. Ask her out for coffee, say something about her new grandkid, ask how work was going.

But it was easier to just roll over and take a nap. So that's what he did instead.

~~~

_thx bro im rly sry_

Raditz sighed and shoved his phone in his pocket. Kakarott was lucky his shift was almost over. If he'd texted Raditz even ten minutes later, he would've already been on the bus home. He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Well, he'd be _trying_ to catch the bus, anyway. His shift finished at five, and the bus stopped outside the library at five after. It was hardly enough time to grab his stuff and run, especially if he was in the middle of something.

But it looked like he wouldn't be catching the 5:05 today anyway, regardless of how quickly he got going. Because _somebody_ (he wasn't naming any names, but it was Kakarott) had forgotten that he was supposed to teach a later class than usual and wouldn't be able to pick Gohan up from the Summer Readers Program at the library. Usually, Chi-Chi would just leave the cafe in Maza's hands for a few minutes and get him, but apparently she was in the middle of training a new employee today and couldn't leave. So because Raditz was right there, Kakarott had texted him to get him to help out. Not that Raditz minded, honestly. Now that Gohan wasn't terrified of him like he had been when he was really little, it was a lot easier to spend time with his nephew. And maybe if he was lucky, he'd get one of Chi-Chi's home cooked meals out of it.

He quickly recounted the books and DVDs he'd processed and wrote the number down, then did the same with the books he'd repaired that day. "Done," he declared, setting aside his clipboard. (Other departments got tablets to do _their_ statistics on, but _no_ , Technical Services got stuck with a stupid clipboard.) "I'm taking off."

"Whatever." Vegeta's computer was already shut down and he was stretching out his back. His desk was a mess, littered with half-processed books he hadn't given Raditz to finish yet, protein bar wrappers, and a parenting magazine that he thought no one knew about shoved hastily under a pile of trash. He stared dully up at Raditz. "You're here tomorrow, right?"

"Every day, Vegeta." Raditz changed out of his work shoes into his ratty, beat-up sneakers and headed for the door. "G'night, everyone."

Nappa waved without looking up from where he was still cataloguing. "See you tomorrow, Raditz."

Raditz waved lazily over his shoulder and headed for the stairs out of the basement. The library's basement had a weird layout--originally there was just a tiny office for the maintenance staff, but then the IT department was built, and then when Tech Serv was moved downstairs a few years ago they'd made another room for it. So now the basement was a huge half-empty warehouse with various storage closets, a furnace, and three rooms randomly scattered around. Tech Serv was on the other side of the basement from the stairs, which was a pain in the ass, but the elevator was broken again so Raditz didn't have much of a choice.

"Hey."

Raditz glanced over his shoulder. Lapis was following him to the stairs. "You got the early shift today?" Raditz asked.

Lapis grinned. "Damn right. Lazuli's pissed about it, too; apparently she had a date tonight or something."

"Ha." Raditz turned away again as they reached the stairs. Lapis was alright, as far as he was concerned. Laid-back and a huge prankster, as long as he wasn't causing trouble for Tech Serv he was alright as far as Raditz was concerned. His sister, on the other hand, was always angry. Fortunately, that usually that anger was directed at Vegeta, which Raditz could sympathize with. Unfortunately, she also tended to direct a lot of it at Vegeta's coworkers, which meant Raditz was on the receiving end of a lot of dirty looks when she was around. He gave as good as he got, of course, but it was annoying as shit. "Well, bye, I guess."

"Later, Rad-man." And Lapis headed off again as soon as they were at the top of the stairs. Raditz sighed. He was not good at holding conversations. No wonder he didn't have any friends.

He sauntered over to the children's program room, hands in his pockets. Piccolo was standing in the middle of the carpet, surrounded by kids and frantically trying to coax them into being quiet while they waited for their parents. Raditz stood to the side and watched for a moment in a sort of sick satisfaction. He had never gotten along with Piccolo--better than he got along with Vegeta, for sure, but still pretty badly--and it was always gratifying watching him fail miserably at his job. Piccolo caught his eye and glared at him. "Can I help you?" he asked with forced politeness.

"Don't you give me your customer service voice." Raditz leaned against one of the supply cupboards. "You know, you'd probably have an easier time with this stuff if you made parents stay with their kids."

"We try." Piccolo shook his head. "Parents don't have to stay if there's an older sibling to help or in the case of special exceptions, but most of the time the siblings aren't much help." He looked over at Gohan, sitting in a beanbag chair and reading a book about slugs. "You're here for him, then."

"Kakarott asked me to pick him up." Raditz fumbled for his phone to show Piccolo the texts, but Piccolo waved him off.

"Whatever, I believe you. Gohan, time to go."

Gohan looked up and noticed Raditz for the first time. "Uncle Raditz!" He beamed at him and struggled out of his chair before running across the room to latch onto Raditz's legs. "Hi!"

"Don't run," Piccolo reminded him, walking away. "See you tomorrow, kid."

Raditz grabbed Gohan under the arms and hefted him into the air. "God, you're getting heavy. You eating too much of Mom's lasagne or what?"

Gohan giggled. "I'm just a big kid now!"

"I should say." Raditz looked at the book still clutched in Gohan's hands. "You need to check that out or what?"

"No." Gohan dropped it on the floor. "I'm done with it."

"Hey." Raditz set Gohan down. "Pick that up; you know better."

Gohan pouted, but picked the book up and put it on a nearby table where it was almost immediately grabbed by another kid, who ran off with it even as Piccolo yelled not to run.

"That's better." Raditz scooped Gohan up again. "Alright, your dad asked me to get you today, so we're going home now."

"Okay." Gohan squirmed around in Raditz's grip so he could wrap his arms around his neck and still see where they were going. "Mommy said she had a new guy starting at the cafe today!"

"Yeah, that's what your dad told me." Raditz headed outside, squinting and blinking in the summer sunshine. Damn, he might just walk home tonight if it stayed this nice. Although he was wearing too-hot work slacks. Maybe Kakarott would loan him a pair of shorts. "How was your day, kiddo?"

"Awesome!" Gohan's hands tangled in Raditz's hair. "Mr. Piccolo read us stuff about plants, and then we talked about how they grow, and we planted beans in waterbottles. And we're gonna leave them in the window all summer and see how they grow!"

"Huh. Neat." Raditz adjusted his grip and kept going. He knew he didn't have to carry Gohan all the time--in fact Chi-Chi preferred it if he didn't, she called it "babying him." But sometimes he just craved some kind of contact, and holding the kid's hand while they walked wouldn't have been enough. Besides, it was good exercise. "Dende and Videl not there today?"

"No." Gohan sounded sad. "Videl's gotta go to the dentist, and Dende's mostly at day care in the summer. I miss him."

"I'm sure he misses you too."

They walked in silence for a minute. Then Gohan tilted his head and looked at Raditz again. "Uncle Raditz, Mommy said you and Daddy are brothers."

"That's right."

"But then she said you and Daddy didn't know you were brothers until you were grownups."

Raditz's heart stuttered in his chest. "Oh."

"How come?"

"Well." Raditz took a breath. Chi-Chi had a big mouth, dammit. "We got separated when we were really little. He was raised by one guy--he named you after him, actually." Gohan's head tilted as he thought about it, then he nodded. "And I was raised by someone else."

"How come you weren't together?"

Raditz shifted his grip again. Could he really have this conversation with Gohan? Wasn't it a little too grown-up for him? Although, he thought, it wasn't anything the kid couldn't see in any given Disney movie. "Well, our parents died." He paused, trying to figure out how much he should actually say. Maybe he'd skip over the part where they were in a gang and their boss killed them to keep them quiet. "So after that, we had to find somewhere else to live. Your dad went with one family and I went with another, because nobody could take two kids." There. That should do it.

"Oh." Gohan looked at the ground. "So how'd you and Daddy find each other again?"

"Mostly by accident." Raditz shrugged as best he could with an armful of kindergartner. "Your parents were getting married and I was friends with someone in the wedding party--your aunt Bulma, actually." Friends was too strong a word, but he wasn't about to start explaining his complicated relationship with his coworkers to a six year old. "I saw that crazy hair of his and knew it had to be your dad."

Gohan giggled. "I like Daddy's hair! It's funny and he lets me mess it up sometimes."

Raditz laughed. "I'd pay money to see that, kid."

"So who're your parents?"

Raditz stopped laughing. That was a much more loaded question than Gohan thought it was. "I'm--they're--" He faltered, stopped talking. Kakarott's words from the day before rattled through his mind: "I mean, even if they're not really your parents, they still raised you and stuff."

God, he didn't remember his birth parents. He only remembered what Dad looked like because Kakarott looked so much like him; he remembered what Mom looked like because he saw her when he looked in the mirror. There were vague memories of Mom holding his hand as the crossed the street to get to school, of Dad laughing when Raditz's teacher told him what kind of trouble he'd gotten into that day. He remembered Dad paying more attention to baby Kakarott to him, and if he focused as hard as he could he could hear Mom comforting him about it. But other than that, all his memories were of...

"My parents are Garnet and Em," he finally mumbled.

Gohan's eyes practically sparkled. "I wanna meet them."

"Maybe someday." Thankfully, they'd reached the Ox Cafe by then, and Raditz shifted Gohan's weight so he could open the door. "Chi-Chi, I brought your kid," he yelled, striding in. It wouldn't do to let anyone know how awkward he was feeling right now. And the best way to cover that up was by being as loud and obnoxious as possible.

"Heya, Rad!" Maza, Chi-Chi's assistant, beamed at him from across the counter. Her bubblegum pink hair was in a messy bun on her head, which looked _really_ silly when it was squished underneath a hair net. "Cheech's in the back. Checking in on the new baker guy." She waved at Gohan. "Hi, Gohan!"

Gohan squirmed and Raditz set him down so he could run off to the apartment upstairs. He flopped into one of the armchairs in the corner and looked around at the empty cafe. "Quiet day today?"

"You just missed the rush." Maza hoisted a tub of dishes and turned to go. "I'll be right back, and Chi-Chi'll be out soon. Make yourself comfortable!"

"Already did," Raditz muttered as Maza disappeared into the back kitchen. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. He was tired. Talking about his family issues always exhausted him. But Gohan didn't know that, he couldn't have known that, and if he had he wouldn't have brought it up.

Still, like father, like son. Both Kakarott and Gohan seemed to like bringing up Raditz's family. And, as Kakarott had so _helpfully_ pointed out the day before, Emerald's birthday was coming up. Tomorrow, in fact. He dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. Maybe he should call her. After the last fight he'd had with Garnet, though, Raditz wasn't too eager to talk to either of them.

"Hi, Raditz."

Raditz looked up at Chi-Chi as she came out from the kitchen with an armload of aprons. "You look busy," he commented.

She shrugged and set them down. "Nothin' I can't handle, especially with my new boy in the back. Thanks for bringin' Gohan home."

"No problem." Raditz stretched and hauled himself out of his chair. "If you're looking for him, he went upstairs already. Well, it's been fun, but I'm heading out."

"You won't stay for dinner?" Chi-Chi propped her hands on her hips. "I'm closing up shop when Goku gets home 'round six, and it's burger night."

Raditz hesitated. Chi-Chi's homemade hamburgers _were_ the best. And Chi-Chi didn't offer many olive branches.

He scratched his ear and shrugged. "Sure, if you're offering. Thanks."

"No problem." She turned away again and busied herself with folding the freshly-washed aprons. "I'll even introduce you to the new guy, once he comes out. He's great with pastries, but not with people, so he'll stay in the back most of the time. But if he's going to work here, he'd better get used to you." Chi-Chi smiled over her shoulder at him and Raditz blinked in surprise. Was she saying what he thought she was?

"Th-thanks," he stammered.

"Miss Chi-Chi?"

A head stuck out from the back room, thin and almost gaunt, with sad eyes too small for his face. Chi-Chi shook her head at him. "Broly, I've told you, it's just Chi-Chi. What's the matter?"

"Th-the oven's making a weird noise." Broly seemed to notice Raditz for the first time. "Oh. Hello."

Raditz waved. Chi-Chi ushered Broly back into the kitchen. "Introductions later, weird oven noises now. Raditz, watch the shop. I'll be right back."

Bewildered, Raditz froze for a moment. Chi-Chi had never let him watch the shop before. She was just full of surprises today. He looked around at the empty cafe. Not that there was much to watch. He wandered over to the laundry and absently started folding it. He might as well make himself useful, anyway.

"Hello."

Raditz jumped at the voice behind him. Broly was back, hands twisting in his apron and looking Raditz steadily in the eyes. Something about the prolonged eye contact unnerved him, and he looked away, back to the aprons. "I thought you were needed in the back."

"Miss Chi-Chi sent me off because I don't know how to fix ovens." Broly moved around to the edge of Raditz's sight. "She said Maza would fix it and told me to come introduce myself to you."

"Real nice of her," Raditz mumbled. His hands moved on autopilot and he looked up at Broly again. On a second glance, he was quite tall and thin, his clothes hanging off him. Some of his black hair was falling out of his messy ponytail, and he kept tucking it out of his face. "I'm Chi-Chi's brother in law. Name's Raditz."

"Hi," Broly said. He tilted his head. "You're Goku's brother?"

"That's me." Raditz stacked the last apron on top of the pile and turned his full attention to Broly. "You know Kaka--Goku?" He caught himself just in time. Kakarott allowed Raditz to call him by his real name when it was just them or among family, but to strangers he was always supposed to be Goku. The name felt wrong in his mouth.

"Not really." Broly looked away. "My father does, sort of."

"Oh." Raditz rubbed his nose. Broly wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Raditz really wasn't much better when it came right down to it. He decided to change the subject. "So today's your first day?"

"Yeah." Broly brightened a little. "Father wasn't happy when I told him I'd gotten a job at a cafe, but I told him who owned it and he relaxed because he knew Goku." He fidgeted. "I think he's still mad I didn't get in at the library, though."

Something clicked in Raditz's brain and his eyes widened. He'd thought the name Broly was familiar. Nappa had mentioned it after the security guard interviews. "Y-you--you're not the guy who started flipping out when Kak-- _Goku_ walked in, are you?"

Broly looked down and blushed. "He looks like someone I used to know. I got confused and freaked out. Father was so mad after that..."

"Dude, you know he _lives_ here, right?" Raditz propped his hands on his hips and glared at Broly. "You'd better get over that _fast_ or you're going to be fired. Why the hell would your dad be okay with you being around someone he knows freaks you out?"

"He said it'd be good for me," Broly mumbled. "Besides, I was able to talk to him and apologise after."

"No offense, but your dad sounds like a jerk." Raditz folded his arms. "Does Chi-Chi know?"

Broly's eyes widened. "Please don't tell her."

Raditz jabbed a finger into Broly's chest. "Don't make it an issue and I won't have to. Got it?"

He nodded. "I can do that. Thank you, Raditz."

Raditz scoffed. "Whatever. Shouldn't you be getting back to work?"

The bell over the door tinkled and Kakarott came rushing through. "Chi-Chi, I'm home!" He skidded to a halt in the middle of the room, eyes falling on Raditz and Broly. "Hi, Raditz! Hi, Broly!"

Raditz kept an eye on Broly, but aside from a sudden tenseness to his shoulders and jaw, nothing happened. "Hi, Goku."

Kakarott slung an arm over Raditz's shoulders. "Are you staying for dinner? It's hamburger night!"

"I've heard." There was a noise, and he looked up to see Broly walking quickly but stiffly back into the kitchen. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he hissed once Broly was out of earshot. "How could you let Chi-Chi hire him?"

"It's her cafe." Kakarott shrugged. "Besides, he said he was sorry before."

"Sorry doesn't cut it! He nearly broke Nappa's hand! He should be locked up, not decorating cupcakes or whatever the fuck!"

"Give him a chance. Get to know him!" Kakarott clapped him on the shoulder. "He's really nice! Maybe you two could--"

"If you're about to suggest I ask him out I'll destroy you," Raditz growled.

Kakarott shrugged. "Just a suggestion. He's cute."

Well, he _was_ , but that wasn't the point. "Whatever. But if this blows up in your faces, don't come crying to me."

"It'll be fine," Kakarott said confidently. "Hey, have you called your mom?"

Raditz bit back his automatic response of "she's not my mom" and stuck his hands in his pockets. "No."

"Her birthday's soon. You should call her."

"Sure, _Dad_." Raditz shrugged Kakarott off and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to hang out with Gohan," he called over his shoulder. "At least he doesn't try to set me up with weirdos or pester me about my family!"

"Hey, you called them your family!" Goku replied brightly before Raditz slammed the apartment door behind him.

~~~

Raditz turned his phone over in his hands and stared at the fingerprint-smudged black screen. It was his morning off, and it was Em's birthday. He really _should_ call her. He'd seen Alex's Facebook pictures of the cake they'd made her, and he'd liked them, but that was all he'd done so far. He hadn't even gotten her a card or anything.

He flopped onto his side and stared at the wall across from the couch. Things weren't supposed to be this complicated. Raditz had always hated when things were all mixed up and messed up and not plain and straightforward. "My parents are Garnet and Em," he'd said to Gohan yesterday. "Don't you care about them at all?" Kakarott had asked him.

But it was more _complicated_ than that, wasn't it? He'd spent so many years trying to find his place in the world by himself, pushing away the people who wanted to help him in the vain hope of reconnecting with the only "real" family he had left. Of _course_ he cared about Garnet and Em and Alex and even Alex's kids, the same way he cared about Kakarott and Gohan and, yes, even Chi-Chi. He just couldn't face them after so long trying to make them leave him alone. How could he go crawling back to them now, nearly ten years later, and ask if he could be part of the family again? That wasn't fair.

Well, he figured, he didn't have to _start_ with asking to be part of the family again. All he was doing was wishing an acquaintance--a friend--a happy birthday. That was all.

Taking a breath, Raditz sat up and pulled up Em's phone number, his thumb hovering over the Call button for a few seconds longer than necessary before pressing it. It rang for what felt like forever before Em's voice came crackling over the line. "Hello!"

"Hi--" Raditz started, but Emerald cut him off. "I'm unable to take your call right now, leave me a message and I'll get back to you!" There was a long beep and Raditz hung up.

Of course. Raditz's breath shook and he buried his face in one of the couch cushions. He wanted to cry. The _one_ time he tried to do something nice, something _good_ , and of course he fucked it up by picking a time she couldn't talk. He was an idiot and he'd _never_ fix his relationship with his parents.

The thought startled him. Somewhere, over the last couple days of talking about it, he'd finally come to really see Garnet and Emerald as his real parents. And now he was screwed. His throat closed up and he tried to choke back a sob. What the _hell_ was wrong with him? Vegeta was right; he was a total screw-up, never did anything right. God, he should just--

His phone buzzed and he shot upright, staring at it.

Em was calling him back.

_She was calling him back._

He fumbled to jab the Accept Call button and held the phone to his ear with shaking hands. "H-hello?" he stammered.

"Raditz?" Yes, that was Emerald's voice alright. He took a shaky breath of relief. "Did you just try to call me? It said I had a missed call from you; I was driving so I didn't get it. Is everything alright?"

"I--yeah," Raditz choked out, "everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" Em sounded concerned. That was ridiculous, why should she be concerned about Raditz? "You haven't called home in years."

And Raditz was gone, tears spilling down his face as his shoulders shook. She'd said "home." Raditz hadn't thought of their house as home, not really, for a long time, and here Emerald was just--he tried to wipe his face and his voice cracked when he spoke again. "I-I just--happy birthday, Mom."

There was silence on the other end, but when Emerald spoke again her voice was just as wobbly as his. "Thank you, dear," she whispered. "Do you--we're having a little get-together this evening, would you come?"

Raditz gulped. He'd already been invited by Alex on Facebook, but he'd thought it was just out of obligation. He wasn't really wanted. "I don't--I don't even have a card. And I work until seven."

"That's okay." Em's smile was obvious in her voice, breaking through her tears. "Just come."

He nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I will. I'll--I'll see you tonight, M-Mom."

"See you tonight, Raditz. Have a good day at work."

"Happy birthday."

Raditz hung up before he said anything else stupid. But this time when he flopped onto his side, he had a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.


	29. The Cat Came Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upa and Lazurite deal with a pest problem at the library. A rather destructive pest problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ed I thought you said you weren't including Super or movie-only characters and plot points" listen Battle of Gods was basically what got me back into DBZ in the first place okay

Upa drummed his fingers on his bicep and glared at the wreckage. Sometime during the night, someone had attacked the trash cans and recycling bins behind the library. Trash bags had been ripped apart, their contents strewn across the alleyway. The recycling bins were mostly untouched aside from the garbage that had gotten thrown into them. His father said that meant it was probably just a hungry animal that smelled something in the trash, but Upa wasn't sure. He'd left his dad to review the footage from the night before and went to check the area to make sure it was secure.

Not that he needed to bother. Lazurite was cleaning it up, and if there was one of Upa's coworkers who could take care of himself, it was Lazurite. Still, it was Upa's job, not Lazurite's, to make sure things were safe. So here he was, double-checking the wreckage to see if the vandals were still around.

"I still say it was a racoon," Lazurite said. He straightened one of the recycling bins and started shuffling paper back into it. "I suppose I had not put the lid on the bin on properly when I took the trash out last night. It must have attracted an animal."

Upa shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, right? Besides, it gets me outside for a few minutes."

Lazurite smiled, soft and small, not looking at Upa. "I understand. It can get very...tedious, being indoors all day."

Upa kicked at an empty chip bag that had been torn to shreds. "Well, whoever or whatever it was, I don't think they're coming back right now. Let me give you a hand."

"No, no." Lazurite shook his head. "You are not wearing gloves."

"So give me some gloves." Upa held out a hand. "I can at least throw some trash in a bag before I go back inside."

Lazurite hesitated, but dug a pair of flimsy disposable gloves out of his toolbelt and handed them and a garbage bag to Upa. "They will be too big," he apologised. "But thank you. Just do not touch anything sharp."

"Can do." Upa pulled the gloves on and shook the bag open, grabbing handfuls of random trash from the ground and jamming them into the bag. "Ugh, I don't envy you your job, I'll tell you that. This part, anyway. It's kind of gross."

"Hm." Lazurite righted one of the trash bins. "It is not so bad. I enjoy what I do, and I am allowed to spend my breaks at the birdfeeder." He looked at the mess surrounding them. "This part is less desirable, I will admit."

"No kidding." Upa readjusted the bag and stuffed a half-eaten tissue into the bag. "You should get locks for these."

"I should." Lazurite shrugged. "It is not usually a problem."

Upa gave a hum of acknowledgement and hefted the bag. "Where do you want this?"

"The far bin, please."

As soon as Upa lifted the lid on the trash bin, an unearthly yowl sounded from it. Upa dropped the lid with a bang. "What the hell was that?!"

Lazurite's eyes widened. "There is an animal trapped inside."

Upa fumbled for his walkie talkie. "We should call animal control."

"No, no, it is fine." Lazurite walked to the bin and lifted the lid to peer inside. Whatever was in there let out another screech, and Lazurite shook his head. "Bad kitty. You know better."

"That was a _cat_?" Upa stared incredulously at Lazurite. "Is it dying or something?"

"I do not believe so. Here, look." Lazurite shifted to the side and beckoned Upa closer. "He cannot get out. He is quite harmless."

Upa inched closer, one hand still on his walkie. Peeking inside, he saw Lazurite was right. At the bottom of the trash can, trying in vain to claw its way up the plastic sides, was a skinny, hairless, purple cat. "It's purple," Upa said numbly.

"That is Beerus." Lazurite's nose wrinkled. "He lives in an apartment building just a block from here." When Upa looked at him, he shrugged. "This is not the first time this has happened."

"Well, he can't stay here." Upa reached into the bin. "C'mere, kitty, let's get you--"

"I would not--" Lazurite started, but Beerus interrupted him by hissing and swiping at Upa's hand. Upa reeled back with a yelp. "He does that," Lazurite explained as Upa checked his hand over for injury. "I know his owner. I will call him. You wait here and make sure Beerus does not escape."

"Oh yeah, sure, just leave me here with the murderous psycho cat," Upa muttered as Lazurite moved away, cell phone already in hand. He hadn't actually gotten hurt, which was good because his father would never let him live it down if his first work-related injury was from a _cat_ , but still, this stupid cat was clearly nothing but trouble. Still, at least that gave him an answer as to what happened last night. Clearly, Beerus had decided the trash cans were offensive to him and destroyed them. Upa peeked into the can again. Beerus pinned his giant ears back and hissed at him, but didn't attack him again. Well, it was progress.

"The owner is on his way." Lazurite's flat voice interrupted Upa's train of thought. He'd gone back to tidying up Beerus's mess. "He will be here in approximately ten minutes. You should let Bora know what happened."

As if on cue, his father's voice crackled over the walkie. "Upa, what's going on out there?" Upa fumbled with the walkie talkie, nearly dropping it. "I found the footage and I was right; it was some kind of animal last night. It's not clear what kind, but there's nothing for us to worry about."

"It was a cat," Upa replied, glancing at the bin. "He's still here. Lazurite knows the owner and he's on his way."

"Fine. Come on back to the office and give me a hand with the report."

Upa groaned. "Be there in a minute. I'm just going to wait for the cat's owner." He looked at Lazurite. "Is that okay?"

Lazurite waved him off. "If you have work to do, do not worry about me. It is nothing I have not done before. I will manage." He paused. "But the company might be nice."

"If you say so." Upa leaned against the wall. "So Beerus comes here a lot, then?"

"Constantly." Lazurite shot the garbage bin a glare. "He gets out of his apartment and thinks the alleyways are his private playground. His 'owner' is really more of a babysitter for an unruly child. Or maybe a zookeeper."

Upa laughed. "Zookeeper sounds about right." His hands fidgeted at his sides. "Do you want some help with that?"

"No, thank you. You have helped plenty." Lazurite paused. "That was much harsher than I intended it to be. I did not mean to imply that I thought you were unhelpful."

"It's fine." Upa shrugged. "Just thought I'd offer, since I'm here."

"This is part of my job, too," Lazurite explained, tossing a bag of trash into the bin that didn't have Beerus at the bottom of it. "Besides, the longer I take at it, the longer I can be outside."

Upa grinned. "I know the feeling. I like what I do, but on a day like this all you want to do is take the day off and go fishing with a couple beers."

"I prefer hiking, but yes."

The sound of footsteps echoed down the alleyway and a tall, lanky man with impossible hair stepped into view. "Well, where is our little lord of destruction?" he sighed.

Upa eyed him warily. This was supposedly Beerus's owner? He sure didn't look like a guy who could handle a high-energy cat, though he _did_ look like the sort of guy who'd own a hairless cat just so he could have a cat without it getting fur all over his luxury condominium.

"Oh. Whis." Lazurite straightened and beckoned the man (Whis?) over to the other garbage bin. "He is not very happy right now."

"When is he ever?" Whis chuckled.

Lazurite shrugged and reached into the bin. Upa heard a yowl, but Lazurite lifted Beerus out with surprising easiness. "Try to keep him inside this time."

Whis reached for his cat with a long-suffering sigh. "Well, I _do_ have a restaurant to run, you know. Sometimes he gets out when I'm not home."

"And you just... _don't notice_ he's missing?" Upa asked incredulously. Whis looked over at Upa, Beerus curled up and purring in his arms. "I mean, uh." Upa opened and closed his hands. "I'd think it'd be hard to lose a purple cat."

To his surprise, Whis laughed, a high, giddy chuckle that Upa associated with obnoxious, cartoonish noblewomen. "Beerus can be quite sneaky when he wants to be! Though if he's not sleeping on the couch I _do_ get a little concerned." He turned back to Lazurite. "Thank you for contacting me." He gave a strange little bow and turned away. "Have a nice day!"

"Please keep Beerus inside," Lazurite called after Whis as he walked away. "He could get sick or hurt if this continues."

Upa shook his head. "I don't think he's going to follow your advice."

"Unlikely." Lazurite shrugged. "But it is not my place." He nodded once, decidedly, at Upa. "Thank you for your assistance. I will finish here. You should go back to work before your father wonders where you are."

Upa grimaced at the thought of the paperwork waiting for him. "I guess. See you around, Lazurite."

Lazurite gave another small smile. "I will see you later, Upa."

~~~

Upa rubbed his temples and resisted the urge to bang his head on the brick wall. "Again? Seriously?"

"I am sorry." Lazurite walked past him towards the wreckage from the upended trash bins. "I thought I locked them last night. It seems I did not."

"No, I guess you didn't," Upa muttered. It had barely been a week since the last time the library's garbage disposal area had been vandalized. Only this time, instead of it being a hot, sunny, gorgeous early July day, it was pouring rain and muggy. Upa tugged the hood of his plastic poncho tighter around his face. It didn't help. "Let me check the area and I'll give you a hand cleaning up."

"It was likely just an animal," Lazurite said. He had a bright green raincoat that seemed to be working much better for him than Upa's poncho. "But thank you."

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Upa looked around. There was nothing deliberately smeared anywhere, no graffiti, nothing indicating humans had caused the problem. Just a mess. Lazurite was probably right; it probably was just an animal. But still, it was Upa's job to make sure things were okay.

Upa paused when a low yowl came from under one of the upturned bins. "Lazurite," he called, "there's something under here."

Lazurite appeared next to him, a huge and imposing figure in the rain. "Probably a scared animal. Please keep your distance."

Upa backed up a few steps. He needed to be able to jump in if the situation took a turn for the worse, but Lazurite was better with animals than he was. He stuck close, but not too close.

As soon as the trash can was a foot off the ground, something zipped out from under it and dashed around the corner. Upa stumbled back in surprise. He hadn't gotten a very good look at it, but-- "Was that thing purple?"

"Yes it was," Lazurite said matter-of-factly, placing the bin back down properly this time. "Beerus was back again, from the looks of things."

Upa groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Can't that Reese guy or whatever keep him locked up? He's a _cat_ , for crying out loud."

"His name is Whis," Lazurite corrected gently, turning back to his work. "I will talk with him again later."

"Please do." Upa's feet were soaked and he was starting to get cranky. Maybe it was time to go back inside. "And Lazurite, please, get some locks for those garbage bins already."

"I did." Lazurite shook his head. "I must have forgotten to use them."

Upa grimaced. "Alright, I'm going back in to help with the report. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Of course. Thank you, Upa."

~~~

Upa threw his hands up in defeat. "If it's Beerus again I'm calling animal control."

"I do not understand." Lazurite surveyed the wreckage, his brows creased with uncharacteristic confusion. "I locked the garbage bins last night. I checked three times."

"Dad's checking the footage." Upa moved cautiously towards the overturned bins. He wasn't eager to get swatted at by an angry cat again. "It might've been an actual person this time, to do this much damage even with the bins locked up." He almost hoped that was the case. It had only been a few days since the last incident this time, and if it was a human they could at least take legal steps against them.

"Possibly." Lazurite nodded, snapping the wrists of his rubber gloves into place. "I had best get to work."

Upa nudged one of the bins with his foot. No sound came from it, so he figured it was safe and turned it back right side up. "I'm still kind of new here; is it normally this bad?"

"No." Lazurite shook a black garbage bag open. "We have had vandals before, but I have never seen so many incidents so close together."

"Hm." Upa moved towards the two other bins across the alleyway from the first one. "So it's an escalating issue. Dad and I might have to start switching off on overnight shifts if it keeps up." He grimaced at the thought. One of the main reasons he'd jumped at this job was that the hours _didn't_ include overnight shifts. It was nearly impossible to find permanent security work for a day shift with his level of experience.

As he gently shook the bin on the left, a low growl came from inside it. Sighing, Upa eased the lid up just enough to be able to see inside. Sure enough, there was Beerus, hissing at him from the bottom of the bin. He sighed again and closed the lid. "Found Beerus," he called to Lazurite. He'd already gotten his phone out, presumably to call Whis. Upa stepped back and surveyed the wreckage. Beerus had really outdone himself this time. No wonder Whis had referred to him as his "little lord of destruction."

A yowl came from the garbage bins, and Upa looked back to see the one on the right shaking back and forth. Frowning, he reached out to steady it. "Lazurite, there's another one," he called.

Lazurite was over his shoulder immediately, phone still held to his ear. Upa gingerly opened the lid to peek inside. At the bottom of the bin, screeching and rolling around and making quite a racket, was a second hairless purple cat. This one was fatter than Beerus, but still definitely a hairless purple cat.

Upa stared, then looked up at Lazurite, who was also staring. "Whis," Lazurite said into the phone slowly, "do you have a second cat? Sort of a...fat Beerus?"

He didn't hear Whis's reply, but shortly after that Lazurite ended the conversation and hung up. "It is not Whis's cat," he declared, tucking his phone away. "But he knows the owner."

"Of course he does," Upa muttered. "They probably go to purple cat owner conventions together or something."

A brief smile flashed across Lazurite's face. "Perhaps." His expression settled back into his usual neutral one. "In any case, I don't see how just two cats could cause this much chaos, even if one of them was Beerus. Perhaps--"

"Upa?" His father's voice was staticky over the walkie-talkie. "I just finished checking last night's footage. Turns out there were _two_ animals this time."

Upa grabbed his radio from where it was attached to his belt. "Is that it? There weren't any people around?"

"None that the footage caught, and the camera was trained directly on those trash bins." He sighed. "Do we have any actual animal-proof garbage bins?"

"We do not," Lazurite confirmed. He pointed at the lid of one of the bins. Something--probably Beerus--had ripped right through the plastic around the lock to get it open. "At this point, I believe only a fully metal dumpster would be able to stop them."

Upa relayed the information to his father, who sighed again. "I'll tell the boss lady, but she probably won't like it. Still, it's better than having our stuff broken into all the time. Upa, make sure everything's alright, then if both of you could come help me convince Bulma we need a new dumpster that'd be great."

"Sure, Dad." Upa shook his head. "Well, that's that, I guess." He looked at Lazurite. "Any idea when Whis'll get here?"

Lazurite checked his watch. "Soon, I think. Though the other owner may be here first; he did say she lived closer."

"I thought you said Whis lived, like, a block away."

Lazurite shrugged and shook open a garbage bag.

A woman stepped into the alleyway. She was almost identical to Whis, even down to her ridiculous hairstyle and garish outfit. She smiled almost serenely at the two men, hands clasped behind her back. "You must be the men Whis told me about. He said you have my cat?"

Upa fidgeted. "Uh, yes. I think so. Fat, purple, hairless?"

She brightened. "That's my Champa! Honestly, he's such a troublemaker. This isn't his usual haunt, though--he likes the dumpster behind that nice Italian place up the street."

It took everything he had for Upa not to say something about how that might have something to do with his weight.

Thankfully, he was saved by Whis sauntering in. "Vados!" he said, stepping forward to embrace the woman. "It's been too long, dearest."

"Likewise, darling." The woman--Vados--stepped back, holding Whis by the shoulders and smiling adoringly at him. "How's my favourite little brother?"

"As well as can be expected," Whis sighed, "what with Beerus out being his usual self so much."

Vados nodded. "True, true. Champa has been worse than usual lately. It's almost as though they're trying to outdo each other." She tapped a manicured fingernail against her chin. "Maybe we should try to make them get along. Then they won't be at each other so much."

"True!" Whis turned and peeked into the bin where Beerus was hissing and spitting. "Now, now, is that any way to behave?" he asked, reaching down to pull him out. Beerus settled in his arms almost immediately, nuzzling up to Whis's chest and purring. "That's better."

Upa glanced at Lazurite, who shrugged. Vados wrangled Champa out from his trash can, and almost immediately the two cats were hissing at each other. "Oh, stop," Vados sighed, cradling Champa and scratching behind his ears. "Honestly, you two haven't changed at all, have you? They've been this way since they were kittens," she explained to Upa and Lazurite.

Lazurite folded his arms. "This is the third time this has happened recently." His eyes turned hard and Upa swallowed. "It ends."

To their credit, Whis and Vados both looked unfalteringly at Lazurite, their respective cats still hissing and spitting. Whis smiled serenely and nodded. "Don't worry. I've found the loose paneling that was letting Beerus escape. He won't be bothering you anytime soon."

"And Champa's definitely getting a new harness for his outdoor adventures." Vados snuggled her cat, despite the fact that he was now almost growling at Beerus. "You're such a naughty kitty!" she said, in a tone of voice completely contradictory to her actual words.

Lazurite tapped his foot, still glaring. Whis cleared his throat and smiled again. "Alright, alright, we'd best be going. Going my way, Vados?"

"As usual, Whis." The siblings walked off, somehow ignoring their still screaming cats.

Upa groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Why?" he asked no one in particular. "Why is this the most exhausting thing I've ever experienced in my entire life?"

A sympathetic hand landed on his shoulder. "That is simply what it is like dealing with Whis and Beerus," Lazurite said simply. "Although if it had happened another time I would not have called Whis until after I had called Animal Control."

Upa laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, hopefully it won't come to that." He looked around. "Need a hand cleaning up?"

"Not really." Lazurite paused. "Although your continued company would be appreciated."

Grinning, Upa held out his hand for a pair of disposable gloves. "All you've ever gotta do is ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WORDS CAN'T EXPRESS HOW SORRY I AM FOR THE ACCIDENTAL 9 MONTH HIATUS. I honestly didn't mean to take this long but stuff conspired against me and basically 2017 has been a very long, very hectic year. I bought a house and was in two plays and discovered I'm gay and started working full time and that's been a...thing. Anyway hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long (I'm working on a Christmas special side story as you read this) so yeah!


	30. Red Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A censorship group has set their sights on WCPL. Bulma 100% doesn't need this right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to be fair because this is a real-world issue but like. Have you guys ever seen the [ALA](http://www.ala.org/advocacy/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks/top10) or [CLA](http://www.freedomtoread.ca/challenged-works/) top banned/challenged books lists they're a fucking joke. From the ALA alone, _Drama_ by Raina Telgemeier and _George_ by Alex Gino were #2 and #3 respectively in 2016 for including LGBT+ characters. The Holy Bible was #6 in 2015 for, I shit you not, "religious viewpoint." _Two Boys Kissing_ was at #5 in 2016, up from #10 in 2015, for LGBT+ content and "other," including "condoning public displays of affection." I wish I was kidding, guys.
> 
> You can probably see why I, a liberal lesbian librarian, had a hard time painting these people as anything other than strawmen. I have _met_ people like this; I _work_ with people like this. So tough cookies.
> 
> (I will say, however, that this was written before the ALA's 2016 list had come out, so it's not super well reflected here.)

Krillin plastered his best customer service smile on his face and tried to tamp down his urge to scream. "I'm sorry you feel that way, sir. I'll take it under advisement."

The man slammed the novel on the desk and Krillin allowed himself some pride in the fact that he didn't flinch. "Under advisement isn't good enough! Leaving this book around where children could get at it...it's disgusting."

"Sir, _Go Ask Alice_ is part of our teen collection." Krillin picked the book up and gently placed it on the ever-growing pile of books people had challenged at his desk. "So not only is this technically the wrong department, it's not going to be taken out by anyone with a children's library card. Our system is set up so that children can only take books and other materials from the children's section--"

"But a teen or adult could take it out and leave it lying around where a child could read it," the man argued. "Besides, it shouldn't even be in the teen section. It shouldn't be here at all."

"The teen section is a perfectly reasonable place for _Go Ask Alice_." Krillin turned to Namu, who was very pointedly pretending to ignore the argument by typing up the Reader's Advisory department's program schedule for the month. "Namu, could you grab one of the challenge forms for me? I can't reach from here."

"It is _not_." The man drew himself up to his full height and Krillin grimaced. Why did people always do that to him? He got it, he was short, they didn't have to rub it in, geez. "It contains heavy drug use, sex, and teenage pregnancy. It's absolutely inappropriate for anyone under the age of eighteen."

"Just a second, sir." Krillin took the form from Namu and grabbed a pen. "Alright, so, _Go Ask Alice_ , on...Namu, what's the date today?"

"The fourteenth."

"Thanks." He handed the pen and paper to the man on the other side of the desk. "Sir, if you'd fill out this form for me with your reasons for wanting to have this item removed from our collection, we'll take it into consideration."

"Into consideration?" The man bristled, wrinkling his nose. "No, it has to be gone, do you understand? Gone completely."

"I don't think you understand how the process works," Krillin said gently. "When a complaint is made, the book goes under review with the employees of the affected department as well as administration and the appropriate members of the library board. Together, they discuss what to do, and a decision is made. I can't just outright remove books from shelves on my own authority." He smiled apologetically. "This is the best I can do. But I promise it'll be looked into."

The man hesitated, then nodded. "Well. Thank you, I guess." He picked up the pen, his sleeve riding up his arm as he wrote. Krillin caught a glimpse of something red around his wrist and grimaced. Oh. So that's what this was. Couldn't just be some conservative kook, no, it had to be one of _these_ guys. He forced his customer service smile back onto his face when the man handed the form back. "There."

"Thank you, Mister, uh..." Krillin glanced at the sheet. "Blue. I'll get this looked at as soon as I can."

"I'll be checking back in on the status of the inquiry," Blue warned.

Krillin's smile never wavered. "Of course. Have a nice day."

Thankfully, he seemed to take that as an indication to leave. Krillin slumped into his chair and let his smile drop, a scowl twisting his features instead. "I hate everything about today."

Namu patted his shoulder as he walked past. "You did great. I'm going on break."

Krillin sighed and reached for the phone. This needed to end, and fast.

~~~

"They call themselves the Red Ribbon Army."

Krillin scrolled down the webpage open on his tablet. "According to their website, they're 'crusaders for safety,' but really all they do is annoy people. Red Ribbon members identify themselves by wearing a red ribbon around their wrists and using colour code names." He shifted through the stack of challenge forms. "In the last month, they've been submitting constant complaints to Reader's Advisory, Children and Youth Services, and Info Services. The only reason we know it's them is because they all sign their forms with things like Blue, Silver, Black, and Yellow. I haven't seen anyone named Red yet, though."

"Have all the complaints been from them?" Bulma asked.

"No," Yamcha piped up. "I got one the other day from a law student named Todd who said one of the books we had about preparing for the bar exam was out of date and useless. That's a legitimate complaint and I told him I'd bring it up."

Bulma nodded. "We'll definitely replace that one with something more up to date. But is that really it? Are the rest of them from these Ribbon guys?"

"They even put it on their website." Krillin handed her his tablet. "Apparently they're against libraries, because we allow access to 'unsavory' material."

Bulma snorted as she scanned the tablet. "Unsavory? It's nothing you couldn't find at your local big chain bookstore. Or on the internet, even." She tossed the tablet on the table and looked around at the rest of them. "Ideas?"

"We could always just ban them," Recoome suggested.

"We can't ban everybody who asks us to make sure our collection is up to date and appropriate," Yamcha said. "If we did that, we'd have to ban Todd, too, and he hasn't done anything wrong."

"Can we streamline the process a little?" Piccolo asked. "Dragging everybody into a meeting to discuss a book is time consuming, especially if we have to get the board in on it."

"That's a good short-term solution." Bulma crossed her arms and rested them on her stomach. "But it won't stop them from coming in constantly."

"How about a change to the challenge policy?" Yamcha asked. "We can say that only one complaint can be made per person per month. That'd force them to slow down, at least."

"Make them leave their library card number with their name, too," Krillin added. "That way we can check to make sure they're not just going to a different department."

"Oh! Oh!" Recoome waved his arm in the air. "Make it so they can only challenge a book if they have a valid card! If they ain't a patron they ain't got no right to demand we change our collection!"

Krillin blinked up at him. It was surprisingly well thought out for Recoome. Usually he just sort of blundered around.

Bulma glanced at Jaco. "You're getting all this, right?"

Jaco paused his frantic scribbling to glare at her. "I'm an elite assistant for a _reason_."

"Just checking. So, boys." Bulma steepled her fingers and looked at the ceiling in thought. "We're going to make three changes to the challenge policy: only patrons can submit challenges, no more than one challenge per patron per month, and we meet no more than once a month to discuss the books." She counted each change off on her fingers as she said them. "We're also going to ask the board if we can oversee the challenges without their help. Honestly, I'm not sure how well that's going to go over, but I can at least ask. And if we're not meeting too often, the time commitment shouldn't be as high." Bulma looked around. "That about cover it?"

"Hey, um, question." Yamcha raised his hand. "What's to stop them all from getting library cards just to make complaints all the time?"

Bulma shrugged. "Nothing. But at least this way we can keep track better."

Yamcha grimaced. "Remind me to apologise to Tien later. His department might get real busy soon."

"Can we stop being so nice to them if they were assholes first?" Piccolo asked.

Recoome glared at him. "Guess."

"Worth a shot," Piccolo muttered. "What if they're complaining to me about same-sex relationships? Or Yamcha, for that matter? Are we allowed to laugh in their faces or what?"

Bulma giggled and Recoome glared at her, exasperated. "Oh, come on," she said, "you have to admit that'd be great."

"No laughing," Recoome said, shaking his head. "But if they start using slurs, call Recoome and we'll get them banned."

Krillin breathed a sigh of relief and thanked his lucky star that Recoome was here now instead of Cell. Sure, Recoome sometimes spoke in the third person and he was kind of terrifying and he was a loudmouthed idiot. But at least he wasn't Cell.

~~~

Piccolo fixed the man with the deadest, blankest face he could manage. "You can't be serious."

The man pointed at the book on the desk, face red with anger. "What part of this don't you understand? This book promotes sinful relationships--"

"It's about penguins," Piccolo interrupted, picking up the book in question and flashing the cover at the man. " _Penguins_. It's a picture book based on a real story about two real penguins who really raised a chick together in a real zoo. Here, I can look it up for you."

"They're HOMOSEXUAL penguins!" The man folded his arms, giving Piccolo a good look at the ribbon tied around his wrist. Out of the corner of his eye, Piccolo saw Chiaotzu lean over the Circulation desk to see who was shouting about gay penguins at two in the afternoon. Well, at least someone was entertained. "You can't put homosexual characters in a picture book! Think of the children!"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Piccolo folded his hands and reminded himself that Recoome would kill him if he punched a patron. "Sir, I'd like you to check the date on your phone and remind yourself what year it is."

"You're treating this _serious issue_ like a joke," the man snapped.

"That's because it kind of is."

"I want to speak to your supervisor!"

Piccolo grinned. "I _am_ the supervisor." From the office, he heard Selri giggle, and he mentally patted himself on the back. "Look," he said as the man started turning red again, "I'll get you a form and we'll put it on our 'challenged' list. It'll go in for review."

"Good." The man nodded, smug now that he'd seemingly gotten what he wanted. "I don't see why you had to be so--"

"When we're done reviewing it," Piccolo continued, like the man hadn't spoken, "it'll go back on the shelf where it belongs, because it's the 21st century, gay people exist, gay parents exist, with children, and hey, gay _children_ exist, and maybe they'd like to see a little something of themselves or their parents in a book, or maybe their parents love them and want them to know that same sex relationships are okay, and this book can give them the tools to have that discussion. Or maybe they just want to read a picture book about penguins. The point is, you aren't the first person to contest this book, you won't be the last, I haven't had coffee in over an hour, I am cranky, I forgot where this sentence was going. Libraries only remove items from the collection for very specific reasons and this case fits none of them. We're not going to ban a book because some guy thinks same-sex relationships are too 'adult' for children." He tossed the book on a pile, folded his arms, and stared the man down. He'd said his piece. Recoome could chew him out later if he wanted, but he'd said his piece.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Give me the form."

Piccolo shrugged. "Alright. But you're wasting your time and mine." He stuck his head into the office. "Selri, grab me one of the new challenge forms and go help Mai with today's craft, alright? Looks like I'll be away from the program room longer than I thought." The girl nodded, blue hair bouncing around her face, and handed him a sheet of paper before ducking out of the office. She smiled at the man on the other side of the desk as she passed. He ignored her. "So, if you could just fill this out, we'll be on our way." Piccolo slid the form and a pen across the desk and stepped back.

"Fine." The man snatched up the pen and started writing. Piccolo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. _God_ he hated his job some days.

"Is this a bad time?"

Glancing over, Piccolo let himself smile when he saw Nail approaching the desk. "No, it's fine. Hi." Nail stopped on the other side of the desk, next to the man with the ribbon. He always kept his distance while Piccolo was working, at Piccolo's request--he _was_ still on the clock, and some modicum of professionalism had to be maintained. Besides, Piccolo had never been one for public displays of affection.

A thought occurred to him. "Dende's not here today."

Nail grinned and hefted the bag on his shoulder. "I'm not here for Dende. I have the rest of the day off, so I'm here working on a group project for school. Just thought I'd stop by and say hello to my boyfriend first."

Piccolo flushed--he still wasn't used to having someone call him their _boyfriend_ \--and glanced at the man filling out the form. He'd raised his head and was squinting between the two of them.

A decision was made, and Piccolo leaned across the desk to brush his lips against Nail's cheek. "Thanks," he said, pulling back. "I'm done my shift at six; want to go for dinner after? Since you have the day off."

Nail was blushing and Piccolo bit the inside of his cheek. Nail _never_ blushed. He was so _cute_ ; how had it taken him so long to figure out he was in love with him? "I--yeah. I'll come back here around six and we can head out?"

"Sounds good. Thanks for coming to see me." Piccolo squeezed Nail's hand. "See you at six."

"Six. Yeah." Still blushing, Nail turned and scarpered towards the stairs.

Piccolo turned back to the man from the Red Ribbon Army. "All set? I'll take that." He deftly picked up the form and set it on the pile. "Anything else I can help you with?"

Glowering at Piccolo, the man turned away. "No."

Piccolo stretched as the man walked off. He thought he'd handled that fairly well. He glanced over the form. "Oh, sir," he called after him. "Mr. White, you forgot your library card number."

White turned around and glared at Piccolo with open contempt. "I don't have one."

"Then I'm afraid you can't file a challenge." Piccolo shrugged and tossed the form into the recycling bin under the desk. "Library policy."

"What?" White stalked back over to the desk. "I've never had this problem before."

"Recently a change has been made to the policy," Piccolo said smoothly. "Library card numbers need to be written on the forms for our files." The practised words flowed easily, and for once Piccolo was actually grateful for Jaco's pedantic ass making them all memorize patron interaction scripts before changing the policy. "If you don't have a library card, you can't file a challenge."

White jabbed his finger at Piccolo's chest. "You can't do that. You're making it up to make me look bad."

"Sir, you're doing a fine enough job of that all on your own." Piccolo mentally kicked himself. Antagonising a patron never went well for him.

Sure enough, White puffed himself up and raised his voice. "You can't treat me--a _patron_ \--like this! I demand to speak to whoever's in charge."

"First of all, without a library card you're not really a patron," Piccolo pointed out. "Just a guest, really." He sat down and reached for the phone. "And I'm sure our Human Resources representative would _love_ to speak with you."

~~~

Jaco stuck his head into Recoome's office. "More forms for you."

Recoome held out his hand. "Thank you. Recoome didn't realise banning someone for screaming profanities about an employee was such a boring process."

"Yeah, it's a little more complicated than just having Upa and Bora escort him from the premises." Jaco leaned in the doorway. "How're you getting on so far? Crazy shit to have happen in your first week."

"Could be worse. You should see what Recoome had to deal with over at City Hall. Everyone was backstabbing each other all the time." Recoome shrugged. "Some guy yelling at me about having a gay guy working in the children's section is pretty tame in comparison."

"You only say that because it wasn't really directed at you," Jaco pointed out. "It was directed at Piccolo."

Recoome grunted. "Probably. Well, it might make Recoome's job harder, but hopefully everyone else's job is easier now."

Jaco edged into the room and reached for Recoome, hesitating before patting his shoulder. "I don't know if anyone else has said anything yet, but I for one am glad you're here. Our old HR guy was...a problem."

He was rewarded with a giant grin that was missing a few teeth. "Thank you."

Jaco patted his shoulder a couple more times before backing off. "Well, I should get back to work. Good luck with Red Ribbon."

"Recoome will need it," he sighed, shifting through the forms.

~~~

"Well, on the bright side, library memberships have gone up, but because these assholes aren't actually taking out any books our borrowing statistics are skewed." Tien shook his head and poked at his tablet. "I get that this was the only solution they could come up with, but it's making our department look bad."

Chiaotzu patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Bulma knows what's going on, and she'll keep that in mind when you send the statistics report. Hopefully this will blow over soon now that we all know about it."

"I hope so." Tien set the tablet down and stretched out his back. "I'm going to the cafe for break. Want anything?"

"Coffee, two sugars." Chiaotzu glanced at the doorway to the Circulation office. "And a new coworker."

"Har, har. Shu's doing his best." Tien patted Chiaotzu's back and headed towards the front doors. "I'll see you in a bit." He pulled out his phone as he walked, no doubt to text Yamcha and ask if he wanted anything at the Ox Cafe, too. Chiaotzu sighed. Honestly, when Tien and Yamcha finally started going out, he'd been a little worried that he'd be losing his best friend to a relationship. Thankfully, that hadn't happened, but it was still a little weird seeing Tien and Yamcha nearly attached at the hip when _he'd_ always been the one attached to Tien.

Well, whatever, it was nice to see Tien happy. And he wouldn't want to see them break up for anything.

"Where's Tien?"

Grimacing, Chiaotzu looked up at Shu. "On break. Why?"

"I need someone to check my shelving cart before I take it out."

Chiaotzu stood up. "I can do that. You watch the desk for a minute; I'll be right back." He propped his hands on his hips. "And remember, if someone with a red ribbon comes to the desk, you...?"

"Ask them what book they'd like to complain about and send them to the appropriate desk." Shu rattled off the instructions like they'd been drilled into his head, which they practically had been by Recoome and Jaco.

"Good." Chiaotzu scurried into the back room. Shu could organise a book cart faster than any of the other pages they'd ever had, and he was usually mostly accurate, but he was inaccurate enough of the time that someone still had to check for him. He grabbed the footstool in the corner and started checking the spine labels.

Surprisingly, Shu had only messed up once, and it was an easy oversight to make. Chiaotzu hopped off the stool and gestured to the cart. "All yours. Only one slipup today! Good job!"

Shu beamed at him. "Thanks! Okay, I'll be in the stacks then!" And off he went.

Chiaotzu wandered back out to the front desk and grabbed Tien's tablet. He added another cart to the day's tally and was about to start compiling a pick list for Shu to work on when he was done when a voice interrupted him.

"You work here, right?"

He bit back his automatic response of "what makes you say that, smartass?" and instead looked up. A middle-aged Japanese man leaned on the desk. A flash of red under purple sleeves caught Chiaotzu's eye and he sighed. "Yes," he said. "Can I help you?"

"I need a library card. This the right desk?"

"Absolutely." Chiaotzu fished around for a new card form. With all the Red Ribbon people lately, they were starting to run low on forms. He'd have to photocopy a few more. "Fill this in. I'll also need some ID with your address."

The man fished out his wallet and handed Chiaotzu a driver's license before methodically filling out the form. Chiaotzu tried not to sigh as he went into the back to photocopy the license. Yet another Red Ribbon here to mess up their statistics and waste people's time. Fantastic.

By the time he got back, the man had finished filling in his form and Chiaotzu handed him his license back. "Thanks. Let me just get this set up." Tien often said Chiaotzu was the best at setting up new patrons in the system, and Chiaotzu was proud of that fact, but he took his sweet time with the Red Ribbon people. "Sorry for the wait," he lied. He held up his hands. "Tiny fingers."

The man--Murasaki, according to his form--laughed. "Not to worry!"

Chiaotzu shrugged and went back to work, pulling a new card out of the desk drawer they were kept in and scanning the barcode to connect it with Murasaki's account. "Okay, so sign on the white strip here and you're good to go." Chiaotzu handed him the card and sat back.

"Excellent. Thanks!" Murasaki scribbled his name down and handed the card back to Chiaotzu. "I'd also like to take out a few things."

Chiaotzu blinked. This was the first time he'd ever seen a Red Ribbon member actually borrow anything. "Oh. Okay. Hand them over, I guess." He opened the circulation software and scanned Murasaki's card again.

Murasaki deposited a grocery bag full of picture books on the desk. He grinned sheepishly when Chiaotzu raised an eyebrow. "I'm babysitting my grandkids tomorrow," he explained. Chiaotzu nodded and reached for them.

If nothing else, at least this guy wasn't going to screw their statistics up any further.

~~~

Bulma tossed a newspaper onto the desk proudly. "Never underestimate the power of press," she gloated.

Jaco picked it up. "'Shushed No Longer: the Growing Book Banning Problem at WCPL,'" he read. He looked up at Bulma. "What did you do?"

"Called in a few favours," she said smugly. "I know a guy who works at the paper, and he got them to run an article about our problem."

"'Libraries have always stood for freedom of information,'" Jaco read aloud, "'but they've also always come under attack by groups who disagree with their materials. Even in this progressive age, there are people who want to dictate the types of materials West City Public Library can and can't have on their shelves. According to WCPL CEO Bulma Briefs, this has been an increasing problem lately.'"

"I never referred to the Red Ribbon Army by name," she explained. "That'd just give them credibility. But they ran this article two days ago and we haven't had a single issue since. And you should see the comments online! We actually have the public's support for once!"

Jaco shook his head. "Congratulations. You solved book banning."

"Don't be like that." Bulma crossed her arms. "I know this is just a temporary solution. But at least I got things to quiet down a little before I go away on maternity leave." She gestured at the paper. "How would you like to be the one dealing with all that while I'm off having my baby?"

"Alright, fine. Thank you." Jaco handed the newspaper back. "You know, one of these days you're going to get yourself in trouble trying to solve things like this by yourself."

Bulma shrugged and started to shuffle back towards her office. "I figure if I'm gonna piss people off, go big or go home."

~~~

"Okay, so, um, sir. If you could just calm down--"

"Calm down? _Calm down?_ " Red's face was the colour of his namesake. "You tell me I'm not allowed to file a challenge against this...this _filth_ , and you want me to _calm down_?"

"Library policy," Yamcha started, "states that only one challenge can be made--"

"Per person, per month, I heard you, I'm not _stupid_." Red sneered. Yamcha folded his arms and kept his face as blank as possible. "But that's a stupid fucking policy and I want to know who I complain to about it!"

"You can always submit a comment on our website," Yamcha suggested, hoping it would get Red to leave him alone.

"On your _website_." Red scoffed. "Do you know who I am? Do you have any _idea_ who you're dealing with?"

Yamcha looked at the record still up on his screen. "According to our records, you're Red Sosui, you just got a card last week, and you've already filed a complaint this month, at Reader's Advisory, about _A Wrinkle in Time_ , which was the wrong department by the way--"

"I'm the _leader_ of the Red Ribbon Army," Red growled.

Yamcha nodded. "Oh, that hate speech group. We've had to ban a few of your members already for harassing staff. If you keep causing a scene I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Red drew himself up to his full height (which wasn't much), snarled "This is not the end of this," and stormed out.

Yamcha shook his head and added a note to Red's record about the altercation. "I'm pretty sure it is," he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todd, the law student complaining about the out of date book about the bar exam, is based on a true story. When I was in college, we discussed book banning and challenges, and we looked at the challenge list for the Toronto Public Library from the previous year. The only book on said list (which was a good 3 or 4 pages) that actually got removed from the collection was a book about preparing for the bar exam, which had been challenged by a group of law students claiming it was out of date and didn't serve their needs. It was one of two (2) books in Canada to be removed from library shelves because of a challenge against it in the entire year.
> 
> The Red Ribbon Army may or may not return in future chapters, who the fuck knows. Certainly not me.


	31. The Ox Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a look into the daily ongoings at WCPL from the point of view of the cafe next door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be a little bit of a breather chapter, and also a refresher. Also an outsider's point of view on the absolutely bananas day-to-day nonsense that goes on over there. Seriously are these people okay.

"Okay, we're off!" Goku pecked his wife on the cheek and held out his hand for Gohan. "Come on, kiddo, we don't want you to be late!"

Gohan hugged Chi-Chi around the legs and grabbed Goku's hand. "Bye, Mommy!" he shouted, waving as he was led out of the cafe. She waved back, smiling. The public library's summer reading program was honestly the best place for Gohan during the summer months, even if she couldn't stand the man who ran it. It was somewhere he could go to keep his mind in shape, he could see his friend Videl and sometimes Dende, and he wasn't always underfoot at the cafe. Most of her regulars didn't mind Gohan, and usually he was pretty good, but it was good for him to get out of the house sometimes, too.

She looked around the front room of the Ox Cafe. The lineup was starting to thin out now as people rushed to get to work. A few people, alone or in couples or the occasional small group, sat at the tables around the room. Maza stood at the counter, ringing through orders and handing out coffees and treats with her usual cheer. Chi-Chi nudged her elbow. "If you want, I can take over here so you can go on your break."

Maza looked at the clock on the wall and shrugged. "I'll go around nine, if that's okay. The crowd should be gone by then!"  
Chi-Chi shrugged. "Suit yourself." She grabbed a cleaning cloth and the spray bottle of soapy water and headed out to start cleaning tables.

Owning and working at her own cafe suited Chi-Chi. It provided a sort of routine—set opening and closing times, a set menu, regular customers who came in at the same time and always ordered the same things. But at the same time, it shook things up just enough to keep her from falling into routines too much. Something would spill, they'd unexpectedly run out of very important ingredients, a customer would complain, there would be a rush or a lull at strange times. There was always something to do, and no day was ever quite the same. She liked that. It kept her on her toes.

~~~

The bell over the door jingled as it opened, and Chi-Chi looked up from her bookkeeping. It had been over half an hour since they'd had a customer—not typical for a Wednesday morning. She'd already sent Broly on break and was taking the opportunity to get her employees' payroll sorted for this week. Looked like that might have to take a back burner, though, as a man rushed in, flushed and out of breath.

"Ten-Ten!" Maza greeted him. Her ever-present smile faded slightly and she tilted her head. "You look sick."

Tien hurried to the counter, shaking his head. "Not sick, just in a hurry. I got caught up in work and I'm late to bring coffee."

Chi-Chi laughed. "I can certainly understand that."

He looked at her paperwork and gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's what my morning looked like, too." Tien turned back to Maza. "A medium, a small, an extra large, and two doughnuts, please."

Chi-Chi leaned her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, looking at Tien. "I've been meaning to ask, why such a big order? Do you buy for everyone in your department or something?" She didn't know Tien very well, but he didn't seem like the kind of guy to buy coffee for everyone in his department every day out of the goodness of his heart. But he also didn't seem like the sort of guy to drink all that coffee by himself, either. His order had gone up recently, too—he'd added an extra large coffee and a second doughnut to his order. But maybe they'd hired someone new for the Circulation department? Heck if she knew.

To her surprise, Tien's ears turned red. "No. Well, I mean, sort of. One of them's for my friend, who works with me."

"Who's the other one then, Ten-Ten?" Maza asked, placing a tray with three different sized coffees on the counter between them.

"Don't call me that," Tien mumbled.

Maza leaned around him to grin at Chi-Chi. "I bet it's his girlfriend."

Tien flushed. "He's not my _girlfriend_ , he's my _boyfriend_."

Maza beamed at him. "Ooo, dish dish dish! Anyone we know? How long have you been going out? Are you going to get married? Why do you always put so much sugar in his coffee?"

"None—none of your business!" Tien stammered. He fished out his wallet and fumbled it open.

"Maza," Chi-Chi warned, "just ring him through. You know you're not supposed to pry into people's personal lives. We've talked about this."

Maza pouted, but punched the numbers into the cash register and took Tien's money. "You guys are no fun." She turned away to pour Tien's coffees and get his doughnuts. "I bet Bro and Gogo would let me."

"Broly and Goku don't sign your paychecks."

Tien hurried out of the cafe, bright red and mumbling his thanks. Maza grinned at Chi-Chi. "I bet it's that cute Yamcha guy. They're always making eyes at each other whenever they're here together."

"Maza, mind your own business."

~~~

Wednesday's lunch rush was always the slowest lunch rush of the week. Chi-Chi could never figure out why. No matter what she did—what specials they had or promotions they ran—Wednesdays were always slower than the rest of the week.

Today was no exception. There were only a few people in the cafe, and it was almost 12:30. It probably wouldn't get much busier. Her only consolation was that she knew the soup of the day was a good choice, because she'd already had to bring out a second pot.

The door opened and she heard Maza chirp a greeting. She turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Sure enough, there was Krillin, her husband's best friend, and his girlfriend. Lazuli? Yes, Lazuli. She had come for dinner that one time. Chi-Chi smiled and gave them a little wave. Lazuli's return smile was a little tight-lipped, but Krillin beamed at her.

"And how are you two today?" she asked after they'd sat down. "Decided to get out of the library for a bit?" Krillin was in the cafe pretty regularly, but never to stay, and Lazuli only ever came in once or twice a week at most.

Krillin looked down at his lap, but couldn't quite hide his blush. "We both had the same lunch break for once. I figured maybe we could have a lunch date."

"How sweet." Chi-Chi eyed the fine black fuzz that had started growing on his head. "Almost time for a shave again?"

Krillin looked up at that, smiling again. "Oh no, I'm growing it out."

Chi-Chi folded her arms. "I've heard that song before, Krillin."

"No, I'm really going to do it this time!"

Lazuli rubbed her hand over Krillin's fuzzy head, a soft smile on her lips. "It looks good so far." Krillin made an embarrassed but not unhappy noise and grinned sheepishly.

Chi-Chi smiled and shook her head. "Well, with the power of love behind you this time, I'm sure it'll work out." Now it was Lazuli's turn to blush. Interesting. "Well," Chi-Chi said, her eyes twinkling and filing the exchange away to tell Goku about later, "I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds be for now."

~~~

The big man was back again. 

The Ox Cafe had a great view of the courtyard behind the library. Chi-Chi would often see her customers head over there to sit on the benches on a nice day. It was maintained by the library, and the man who did the maintenance was an absolutely enormous redhead. He was out back again, watering the flowerpots.

Chi-Chi didn't know much about him, or anything really. She assumed he worked at the library because he was always out filling the bird feeder or taking care of the plants. He was easily seven feet tall, mostly bald except for a bizarre shock of fire engine red hair at the front of his head, and _ripped_. Sometimes she'd watch him and wonder if he could give her Goku a run for his money.  
But after he was done whatever job he'd come outside to do, he would always sit on the bench next to the bird feeder. Within a few minutes he'd have birds literally eating out of his hand.

Sometimes, like today, Chi-Chi would see him out sitting for upwards of half an hour, covered in birds and stray animals. Then a black haired boy would come out and talk to him for a bit before they went back inside together.

Chi-Chi didn't know what his story was, but she wished he'd come into the cafe sometime so she could find out.

~~~

Broly was having an off day. From what she could tell it wasn't a full-on _bad_ day yet, but he seemed like he was heading towards one. He kept slamming the till shut, glowering at customers, giving curt, one word replies. Chi-Chi didn't say anything about it—there wasn't much time left in Broly's shift, so hopefully either his mood would blow over before then or he'd take it with him when he left. Just in case, though, she kept conveniently finding jobs for him to do in the back, where he wasn't interacting with people.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of an unexpected rush at the moment, so Broly had been put in charge of plating food while Maza rang orders through and Chi-Chi rushed around doing everything else. She could practically hear Broly steaming behind the display case has he slathered mustard on bread in the most violent way she'd ever seen someone make a sandwich. But she needed him, so he'd have to hold fast for now.

Finally the line thinned out enough that Chi-Chi could take over for Broly so he could take his break. He nodded without saying anything when she told him to take fifteen minutes, shoulders hunched to his ears and face pinched and taut. She laid a gentle hand on his arm and he flinched, lips pulled back in a snarl. "Do _not_ touch me," he growled.

Chi-Chi frowned. This was new. "Go for your break, then meet me in the kitchen. We need to figure out what we're doing for August's menu."

Broly rubbed a hand over his arm and nodded before disappearing wordlessly into the back. Maza raised her eyebrows at Chi-Chi, but for once said nothing. Chi-Chi sighed and shook her head. "I'll talk to him later," she said. She nodded at the two people remaining in line. "Think you can handle our crowd?"

Maza winked at the man she was handing a mug to—one of their regulars, though Chi-Chi couldn't pull his name forward at the moment. "I don't know, Kami's a pretty rowdy guy."

Kami chuckled and took his tea. "Watch out, I might just knock over some napkins or something."

Chi-Chi laughed and headed for the back room. "Come get me if things get busy again," she called over her shoulder.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen was Broly, hunched over a recently cooled batch of sugar cookies that Chi-Chi hadn't gotten to icing yet. "Broly?" she asked tentatively. He looked up at her impassively. "Is something wrong? Why aren't you on break?"

He looked away, grabbing at the crystal he kept around his neck at all times. She'd never asked about it; she'd always just figured it was some kind of fidget or calming thing for him. "I...wanted to apologise." Broly took a breath and let it out in a sigh. "I didn't mean to snap, but I was overwhelmed and it's been a garbage brain day."

Chi-Chi folded her hands in front of her. "You've been having a lot of those lately."

"I know." Broly fidgeted with his crystal, rubbing his thumb over the bumps and edges of it. "I'm sorry."

She stepped towards him slowly, keeping her distance. "So what do we do?"

He finally looked up at her. "What?"

"About your garbage brain days. What do we do to help you with those?" Chi-Chi leaned on the counter. "There's got to be something we can do besides just your fidget there." She nodded at his crystal, and he clutched at it tighter. "That's good for keeping your hands busy and grounding you, but not calming. Is there something you've found that helps calm you down when you're having a garbage brain day?"

Broly scratched his arm with the hand not holding the crystal. "Not really...mostly it's just my crystal." He held it up. "My father says black tourmaline is supposed to be good for calming anxiety, so I wear it all the time. But it also makes for a good fidget, so I use it for that, too."

"Hm." Chi-Chi folded her arms. "I'm thinking we should find something calming for you to do, or watch, or listen to, or something, whenever you're not feeling right."

"I like those cookie decorating videos online," Broly offered. He looked down at the still uniced cookies on the counter in front of him. "I'd like to try it in real life."

Chi-Chi nodded. "I can teach you how that works. Why don't you actually go for your break, and then when you get back we'll get started?" Broly nodded. "There'll be times when there aren't cookies to be iced, though. Do you know any breath exercises?"

"Yes. But they don't always work."

"Trying them and having them not work is better than not trying them at all." Chi-Chi reached out and laid a hand on his arm again. He didn't flinch away, and she smiled up at him. "Go take your break. Maza and I can handle the cafe for a little while."

He bit his lip and nodded before turning and scuttling outside. She sighed. The boy was more anxious than a long-tailed cat in a rocking chair shop and clearly no one had ever done much to help him before. She scoffed. Shoving a crystal at their own child and not giving them any other kind of support—what kind of person was Broly's father to do something like that?

Well, she didn't know the whole story. And it wasn't really any of her business. But, she thought as she set about gathering her icing ingredients, it might be about time to make it her business.

~~~

Chi-Chi pressed her lips together, struggling to keep her face neutral. "Piccolo."

He, at least, had the sense to look sheepish. "Hello, Chi-Chi."

Her arms were folded and she could feel her face scrunching up in distaste and annoyance. "What brings you here?" she asked, faking cordiality through gritted teeth.

"Not really your business, is it?" he shot back. "I'm human too. Sometimes I want a caffeine or sugar break. Is it really that big a deal?"

She squinted suspiciously at him. "You never come in here." _Usually you know better,_ she thought, but she held her tongue. She had to be fair and give him a chance to explain himself.

The bell over the door tinkled and a man in purple scrubs walked over to the two of them, attaching himself to Piccolo's arm. "Hey," he said, flashing Piccolo a grin. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

Piccolo's face had immediately turned mottled red as soon as the other man walked in. "No," he said shortly, readjusting so they were holding hands instead. "I just got here."

Chi-Chi blinked. "Nail?" She hardly ever saw Dende's cousin unless he was picking Dende up from a playdate, and even then it was more often Dende's father Moori picking him up.

Nail turned his smile on her. "Hi, Chi-Chi. How's it going?"

"Fine." She looked at their intertwined fingers. "Dende ain't here, though I suppose you already knew that."

Nail laughed and squeezed Piccolo's hand. Piccolo gave a slightly strangled noise and flushed darker. "Yeah, we're on our way to pick him up from daycare since Piccolo here has the afternoon off for once. We've got a little time, so I convinced him to meet me here so we could get coffee first." He glanced between Chi-Chi and Piccolo. "You two know each other?"

Chi-Chi propped a hand on her hips. "You could say that."

"Her husband and I go way back," Piccolo explained, and Chi-Chi had to give him credit—that was possibly the most diplomatic way of putting their relationship.

Nail didn't ask any more questions, and he either ignored or didn't notice the tense atmosphere. "Cool." He squeezed Piccolo's hand again and smiled at him. "Did you order yet, or should I?"

"No. We should do that." Piccolo gave Chi-Chi a nod and practically dragged Nail over to Maza at the counter.

Chi-Chi stayed where she was, watching them. Piccolo's ears were red, and he looked absolutely ridiculous with his beach ball sugar cookie and cappuccino foam moustache. He seemed like an almost entirely different person than the Piccolo she knew—in a good way. Still uptight and with barely concealed anger bubbling just under his skin, but he was capable of being soft now, too.

Maybe it was just her.

The cafe door opened and Gohan came barrelling through, latching himself around her legs in a hug. "Hi, Mom!"

She laughed and knelt to give him a proper hug. "Hello, sweetie. How was your day?"

"Good!" He pulled back and beamed at her. "Uncle Raditz brought me home!"

"Yes, I know, we asked him to this morning." Standing, Chi-Chi smiled at Raditz, who was standing awkwardly behind Gohan with his arms folded. "Thanks, Raditz."

He rubbed his nose. "Anytime." His gaze wandered over to the pastry display case. "Are those Nanaimo bars?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you can have one as thanks."

Raditz grinned and winked. "Aw, you know me so well." He sauntered over to the counter, giving Piccolo and Nail a wide berth as they left.

Gohan perked up on seeing Piccolo and went running off towards him. "Hi, Mr. Piccolo!"

"Cripes, kid, we just saw each other," Piccolo grumbled, but he accepted the hug Gohan threw at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" There was a softness to him that Chi-Chi had never seen, or at least never noticed. He ruffled Gohan's hair and his brow became slightly less furrowed.

Maybe Goku had been right. Maybe Piccolo had changed for the better. She felt a little bad for not extending the benefit of the doubt.

As soon as Piccolo saw Chi-Chi looking at him, though, he stiffened up and gently pushed Gohan away. "Be good, kid," he said, tugging Nail out of the cafe.

Chi-Chi stuck her hands in her apron pockets and sighed. She'd probably never understand what was going on in Piccolo's head. But at least he seemed like he'd found some people important enough to him to relax around.

Gohan planted himself at a table in the corner with his superhero colouring book and a glass of milk and Chi-Chi got back to work. It was time to make another carafe of dark roast, and Maza was busy wiping down tables, so the job fell to Chi-Chi.

Raditz was leaning on the counter, chatting with Broly. Chi-Chi had noticed they tended to gravitate towards each other whenever they were in the cafe at the same time, and she was glad for it. They both needed friends desperately.

Raditz was another one Chi-Chi hadn't been sure about to begin with. He'd showed up just before her wedding, this huge, hairy, kind of smelly man claiming to be her fiancé's long-lost brother. It had been a little suspicious. Not to mention that he was rude, had horrible grooming and self-care habits, and made her baby cry whenever they were in the same room for the first year of his life. He'd worked hard, though, to earn her family's love and respect. And although there were times where Chi-Chi wished he'd just go away, they all really did love Raditz, and when it came down to it they all knew he loved them back.

Chi-Chi didn't know Broly's whole story, or much of his story at all. She knew he was anxious, quiet most of the time but with a temper that seemed to have a random trigger. She knew his home life wasn't the greatest, but he rarely talked about his family. Sometimes he'd mention his father, but not often, and usually just in passing. Chi-Chi got the impression he was afraid of him, but didn't realise it. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know what to do. All she knew how to do was provide a safe, welcoming place for him at work, and drop less and less subtle hints about how he could always tell her anything or even stay over if he needed to. It wasn't much, and she knew it, but it was all she could think of. She could hardly go to any authorities without knowing all the facts, after all.

So she watched the two of them chat—Raditz casual and flippant as ever, Broly stumbling over half his words but surging forward determinedly—and let them have this one thing.

~~~

Goku kissed her cheek and used her distraction to snag a cherry tomato from the salad bowl. Chi-Chi smacked his hand, but laughed. "If you're that impatient, give me a hand. Go set the table."

He grinned and wandered over to the cutlery drawer. "Good day, Chi? Anything interesting happen?"

Chi-Chi smiled and shook her head. "Nothing special worth mentioning."


End file.
